Forget About the Baby
by WE'VE STARTED A TREND
Summary: What would have happened if Sarah had chosen her dreams instead of Toby? Death eaters, Fae kings, Slytherin brats, failed occlumency lessons, and too many secrets to keep track of. JxS, the absolute BEST HPxLabyrinth crossover!
1. Prologue

**PLEASE NOTE: As of 07/29/2010 these chapters have undergone a major rewriting in preparation for the completion of this story and my original outline. As a result, some reviews or details may not seem compliant with the chapter in question. What did I change? I added a little more depth, fixed some awkward phrasing- put all of my writing knowledge of the past year to use. :D There's some more detail and wittiness, and I'd recommend a re-read if you're interested. I'm sorry for letting this story sit for so long, but I still have the full outline and partial chapters finished I was working on before my writing hiatus. Enjoy!**

To the readers:

This will be a novel length story, as I've already fully outlined about 40 chapters. The story will stay fairly true to HP Canon, so your favorite characters are still going to die at the end of everything (please do NOT email me asking if I'm going to save your favorite character, as it won't happen). It will follow the trio's seven years through Hogwarts, and I have taken a few liberties in regards to age and years. Suspend your disbelief.

While I am an avid Labyrinth fan and member of the fanfiction community, my first love has always been Harry Potter. There aren't lots of great HPxLabyrinth stories out there, and I'd like to add this; an imagining of how my favorite characters would interact together. I hope you enjoy this story, and constructive criticism and reviews are always appreciated!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Labyrinth or Harry Potter, as all characters involved belong to Jim Henson and J.K. Rowling, respectively.

Forget About the Baby

Prologue

* * *

"_I've brought you a gift," he told her, plainly, spinning the crystal around in his hands. The small orb caught the light, twinkling charismatically, and Sarah Williams was mesmerized by the magic trick.  
_

"_What... is it?" she inquired in response. She reached out but he pulled the crystal away, spinning it against his slender hands. Light bounced off the orb in colorful, prismatic patterns. _

"_It will show you your dreams," he grinned, a Cheshire cat smile, watching the fascinated look on the girl's face. "Do you want it?"_

_She thought about Toby, about how she was practically a slave in her household, about how no one treated her with any respect. She was fifteen, after all! She didn't deserve to live this badly. She didn't deserve this life.  
_

"_Forget about the baby, Sarah..." he whispered, his voice a passionate caress, piercing the silence of the bedroom. _

_She leaned in further, utterly fascinated by the potential of the gift. Looking into the crystal, Sarah saw her dreams before her: a brave, fairytale adventure filled with magic and intrigue, double-agents and spies, bubbling cauldrons and romantic interludes._

"_Live the life you've always wanted, Sarah."_

_And so she did._

* * *

_Jareth reappeared in his realm, in the castle at the center of his Goblin City, his new heir in tow. As he listened to Toby Williams' gurgling cries, Jareth laughed in delight and bounced the baby up and down on his knee._

"_What a pity, this girl," he mumbled softly to the baby on his lap, as though he was expecting an answer. "I thought she would have fought me, I thought she would have at least _tried_ the labyrinth..__. She would have lost, of course, but at least I would have something to occupy my time."  
_

_He laughed, a high, menacing sound, as the girl in question slept calmly in her bedroom, unaware of the consequences of her actions._


	2. Chapter 1: Waltzing

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Labyrinth or Harry Potter, as all characters involved belong to Jim Henson and J.K. Rowling, respectively.

Forget About the Baby

_Chapter One: Waltzing_

Sarah Williams sat up in her bed, stretching and yawning slightly, her ebony curls twirling and tumbling down her shoulders.

As she contemplated whether or not to check on her obnoxious younger brother, she noticed that the grandfather clock downstairs had turned eleven, the loud antique sounding its ever familiar gong. She felt it reverberate through the very house itself, like a living pulse.

She sighed and waited for the sound of her brother, Toby, crying until he couldn't breathe- he always cried when the clock changed. Every hour, on the hour. For whatever reason, the noise scared him, and her parents loved the clock too much to part with it.

Sarah, however, was not thrilled with having a baby brother waking her up every hour, on the hour. Every evening. She likened it to some kind of absurd child abuse: for _both _the Williams children.

She threw the covers off her bed defiantly, waiting for Toby to start crying. She supposed it was inevitable, as she was far too young to move out on her own. However, she planned to blame her parents later in life, when she found herself in therapy after a profound lack of REM sleep in her developing years and a perpetual terror of loud noises.

She didn't hear anything.

Puzzled, she figured that he might be in a deep sleep or, even worse, he might have crawled off somewhere. Her parents had left around 7:30, after all, and it was almost four hours later. What if something had happened to him?

Sarah threw the covers off the bed and stood up, flexing her calves before walking out of her room, across the hallway, and opening the door where Toby's room always was.

Whatever she had expected, she didn't expect to find an office.

An expensive, large new Apple computer sat on a desk, with an office chair propped against the desk itself. The curtains swayed against the large window on the other side of the room, with business papers strewn across the floor. There was no evidence of a baby living in the room at all: no crib, no toys, nothing.

Slightly shocked, Sarah figured that she had walked into the wrong room, or taken a wrong turn, though she knew deep down that she knew her own house like the back of her hand.

After an hour of searching through the house, Sarah discovered something terrifying: there was no Toby in the house. It was as though he had never existed. No family photos, no drawings on the fridge. She felt as though the life itself had been sucked out of her house- the noise and excitement a child can bring had been extinguished. Completely.

She sat down, placing her head in her hands and trying not to hyperventilate. Had her parents taken him out somewhere with them? No, they were going to a business dinner, and her parents wouldn't have taken him along to that. They couldn't afford a babysitter (as her stepmother, Karen, found the need to remind her frequently whenever she came home late) and they managed to go out every weekend. Either way, it didn't look like Toby was just staying somewhere else for the time being. Or if he had ever been here.

Suddenly she remembered. The crystal, held out to her tentatively. Expensive, black leather gloves. Arched eyebrows. Glitter everywhere.

Running upstairs frantically, she winced. Hadn't that just been a dream, wishing her brother away to the goblins like that? There were no such things as goblins, and that story couldn't possibly be real (as much as, sometimes, she really wished it was). Goblin kings in love with mortal girls? That kind of thing didn't happen. Goblin kings in general? Didn't happen either. Telling herself that she'd just been reading too many fairy tales before bed again, she coiled her fingers around the brass doorknob.

She braced herself and threw open the door- immediately blinded by a fit of glitter. Glitter, absolutely everywhere. It was as if a fine mist of glitter had settled on everything in her room, forming a fog in the atmosphere itself. Her clothes, bed, books, desk. Everything was saturated in it. Although she was rather enamored with the sight, she'd learned from years of school plays that glitter was almost impossible to get out. Of anything. She couldn't remember where the broom was, maybe somewhere near her desk-

Sitting on the desk in her bedroom was a single crystal, her desk lamp shining on it like a spotlight. Hesitantly, she walked towards the orb, her trembling shoulders betraying her confident posture.

_It's just a crystal, Sarah... nothing more, none of this is real..._

She picked up the crystal, surprised at the light weight and fragile nature of the ball. This couldn't be just a simple paperweight that her parents had purchased without her knowledge. It was delicate, but strong. She tapped the outside softly and heard a light "ping" as though she was holding expensive glass.

As if confirming her deepest fears, images slowly began to swirl inside the orb in an intoxicating rhythm, showing a beautiful girl in a ballroom. The girl herself looked quite familiar, with silver vines and delicate jewelry draped around her figure. She could swear she heard a song in the background, almost like a light, mysterious music box melody.

The young girl waltzed with a man to a strange song, wearing the most beautiful dress Sarah had ever seen. She could imagine herself in the girl's position, being held by strong, powerful arms... arms belonging to a man looking just like the goblin king in her dream...

Sarah pulled away from the crystal, shaking her head to try and clear her thoughts.

She started to cry, overwhelmed by new feelings and emotions she could barely understand. She wanted her brother back! Shaking the crystal ball in her hand to make the image disappear, she wiped a tear from her cheek and threw it harshly against her mirror.

Neither broke.

She ran downstairs and picked up the phone, asking the operator to place a collect call to London. While she wanted to speak to her mother directly, the telephone clicked over to her answering machine.

"Hello, you've reached Linda, I'm currently unavailable but if you leave a message, I'll call you back as soon as possible. Thanks!"

After the harsh beep against her ear, Sarah spit the words out in succession, trembling and trying her best to concentrate on speaking, the only task at hand.

"Mom? It's Sarah... I don't know what's going on, but I just can't stay here anymore... do you know how you offered to let me come stay with you in London for a while? Please, can I come visit? I don't know where else to go..."


	3. Chapter 2: The Dreamer

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Labyrinth or Harry Potter, as all characters involved belong to Jim Henson and J.K. Rowling, respectively.

Forget About the Baby

_Chapter 2: The Dreamer_

Albus Dumbledore considered himself a reasonable, logical man. While he had seen many strange things in his lifetime, he vowed that he would never throw himself emotionally into decisions, priding himself on his reasonable nature and rational thinking. While some would consider him "eccentric" or "strange", he preferred to think of himself as outside of normal social boundaries, making his opinion _more_ than expert.

However, as he tripped across a pale, sick-looking girl while walking in muggle London, collecting candies to add to his collection of muggle sweets (he stored them in the second drawer of his desk, having collected a rather large stash over the years) he let his heart take control and pull him towards the pitiful sight laying, quite literally, at his feet.

Her hair was matted and dull, with knots and tangles obscuring the long mess that was probably once tamed to a chestnut brown glossy sheen. Her skin was translucent, with her bones poking out at all angles. Bruises were painfully evident on her emaciated figure. She looked as though she hadn't eaten in days, and muggle needles and syringes (filled with the remnants of what looked suspiciously like muggle illegal drugs) were littered on the floor around her. Her forearms were scarred and messy, covered in cuts mixed with permanent scars.

Albus poked her stomach lightly with his wand, looking to see if she was alive. Although mostly to make sure she wouldn't bite him.

The girl's eyelids fluttered slowly and she opened her eyes, taking in the relief and astonishment of the older man in front of her. Her eyes were glazed over with cloudy tears and she did not seem fully conscious, scratching her arms as though she had some kind of itch. Albus didn't see any bugs. He sighed; he was obviously going to end up getting bitten by another one of those muggle "street junkies".

She opened her mouth to speak and closed it again, seeming alert, her eyes darting around nervously. Albus noticed that her fingers were bitten down past the fingertips, with ingrown nails bleeding and pushing their way to the top.

"Please, my brother... Toby... I can't find him..." she whimpered, scratching at her legs instead of her arms. "I've tried everything..."

Albus figured she had lost her brother at a muggle theme park (which was, really, quite understandable- he could never keep to his senses in those) or out shopping somewhere, or maybe her parents had taken him home and forgotten her.

Either way, no matter the case, he made an immediate decision. He couldn't just leave her in such a pitiable state. He pondered this for a minute, deciding to take her to the nearest store and help her find a seat. She was a danger to other pedestrians in her current position, in the middle of the sidewalk. It was a public service.

Offering his hand to her, he motioned to help her stand up. As soon as she gained her footing, however, she collapsed onto the ground again, her limbs crashing against the pavement. Obviously, she wasn't going to be able to sit on her own.

Sighing, Albus picked her up and slung her over one of his shoulders, surprised by her lightness.

He reasoned that he could not take her to a Muggle hospital, as there would be too many questions to her condition and he was always intimidated by their muggle terminology. He didn't want to be caught as some girl's legal guardian, especially a muggle girl.

He decided that the most rational solution was to take her to Hogwarts and see what could be done. After her treatment, she could just be obliviated and returned to the non-magic world. If, by any slim chance she had any magic in her, he could help find her a home or work at the school.

Albus was a rational man but, as he apparated to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, he did not consider the implications or results of his decision or that, maybe, this was not the most logical decision after all.

* * *

Jareth sighed, letting the crystal pop in the palm of his gloved hand, sitting up and watching the small child gurgle and laugh at the chickens running around in his throne room.

His child.

His heir.

While the siblings of those wished away always tended to regret their decisions, Sarah Williams seemed to have the worst luck of them all. After arriving in London, her life quickly deteriorated. She became involved in a dangerous ring of sex and mortal drugs, betting away her dreams in exchange for being able to feel something, any high she could accomplish.

The worst part was that, given the proper upbringing and situation, Jareth was positive that she could have achieved a better life for herself. He had been watching her for a while, observing her actions and watching her recite monologues in the park where she played after school.

This mortal girl knew how to dream, and by giving her everything she had wanted, Jareth did not consider the sheer foolishness of mortals themselves- her life, quite literally, had collapsed around her. The world fell down. If she had entered the Labyrinth, she would have truly given him a challenge- he was sure of it. He was confident he still would have beaten her (as no mortal challenger had yet beaten his labyrinth), but some amusement every few hundred years would be welcome.

However, at this point the Labyrinth was still waiting for it's champion, and he was unaware of who the next worthy opponent would be. Or if there would be anyone, ever.

He had waited years for the girl, and she had just let him down. He had relinquished his power over her in exchange for giving her what she truly wanted, more than anything, and she had just gambled her dreams away.

Jareth supposed he couldn't expect too much more from mortals, anyway.


	4. Chapter 3: Hogwarts

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Labyrinth or Harry Potter, as all characters involved belong to Jim Henson and J.K. Rowling, respectively.

Forget About the Baby

_Chapter 3: Hogwarts_

Sarah blinked a few times, adjusting herself to her new, unfamiliar and quite blurry surroundings. She heard two (or maybe three?) voices around her, and closed her eyes again, about to suffer from total sensory overload.

"Albus! Out of all the stupid, split-second decisions you've made, this could possibly be the worst!"

"Now Poppy, I couldn't just leave her where she was, could I?" Sarah heard a male voice sigh and a few shuffling noises.

After a few more minutes of scolding and plenty of words she didn't understand (muggle?), Sarah decided it would be a good idea to open her eyes and face her inevitable death at the hands of these kidnappers. She'd been through worse, but she was ready to give up. At least being taken in by a few crazies was better than being taken in by the cops again.

She saw two women and one man standing over her, as she laid in what resembled an antique hospital bed. The shelves next to her were lined with strange bottles, filled with colorful liquids and a few that were... bubbling? Next to the bottles were jars filled with rat tails... frog legs... eyes of various assorted sizes. The man was tall and older than both women, with a long, graying beard and with a small pair of glasses sitting on his nose. He wore long, blue robes down to his feet, decorated in glittering small golden half moons and stars. His eyes twinkled with eager excitement and barely-repressed curiosity as soon as he noticed that she'd become conscious.

"Minerva, look, she's awake!" He clapped his hands in excitement, though his glee considerably mellowed when focused with a stern look from the other woman.

"We don't want to frighten the girl, Albus," she responded, scolding him (although Sarah noticed that it was with a certain level of respect). The woman's graying hair was fixed into a tight bun and her mouth was fixed into a permanent stern line. Her robes were a subdued, maudlin shade of burgundy. Sarah figured, however, that the woman was kinder than she initially looked.

"Now, my dear, what is your name?" she asked, giving Sarah a slight smile, with almost a feline quality and wit dancing behind her cross expression.

Sarah opened her mouth to speak but found that she could not, her voice rusty from days of silence, sleep and a general lack of practice. She croaked not once, but twice, fighting to find the words bubbling in the back of her throat. So many questions that she could ask these people, in this strange place. Of course, the strangest question was that why some man who apparently just _found_ her in the middle of nowhere had decided it would be a good idea to bring her to (what looked like) his home? And why all three of the people standing above her were wearing long, sparkling sets of robes. These kidnappers had to be out of practice, or maybe she'd been taken in by a cult... or period actors...

"Sar... Sarah..." she croaked successfully, eliciting a small smile from her stern benefactor.

"I am sorry about how sudden this all sounds, but would you please do me a favor and reach your hand out to me? I need to check something," another woman asked, shuffling over next to the first woman. This woman was shorter and more cheerful, with her graying hair framing a jolly face and a mouth marred with, not wrinkles, but laugh lines. "I am the resident mediw... erm, doctor, here."

Ignoring the second woman's apparent slip, Sarah did her best to raise up her hand. Her arms were heavy and bandaged, although she could not see any evidence of an IV or any medical machines around her.

But, though she was reluctant, she was also, astonishingly, trusting. These were the first people that had shown her any kindness in longer than she could remember, and while it was a strange and unfamiliar situation, Sarah considered herself quick at adapting.

Picking up her hand, the aforementioned "doctor" fumbled in her robes with her other hand, muttering something about a "blasted thing," eventually pulling out a long, evenly shaped stick. Before Sarah could interrupt with a question (though, honestly, she wasn't so sure she could form sentences at this point) the woman tapped her palm twice, rather lightly, with the stick.

As soon as the second tap had ended, small sparks slowly rose up from Sarah's pale hand, turning into what almost resembled light, blue stars. She could not draw her eyes away from the sight, enthralled with the show that her hand seemed to be producing. The woman was pleased and put her wand away. If the doctor hadn't acknowledged the light show coming up from her palm, Sarah would have presumed she was still reeling from her last overdose.

"She has magic. It's very weak and not developed, but she has the potential," the doctor said, smiling and nodding at her companions.

The older man seemed delighted, his eyes taking on a twinkle. "Can we keep her, Minerva? Please?" He almost seemed to be pleading and the doctor woman laughed, while the other woman's mouth fixed into a stern, reprimanding solemn frown.

"She's not a puppy that you've found in the yard, and you can't keep her as some kind of personal pet. Obviously, this requires her approval," Minerva responded, though her eyes hinted at kindness and her expression had softened.

Sarah interrupted, squeaking out whatever words she could. She found that speech came easily the second time, and managed to convey her passion and desperation. "Please, I don't have anywhere else to go..."

Everyone in the room turned to her with widened eyes and a look of sympathy and, Sarah was quick to note, affection.

"Well, then, it's settled!" the doctor said, putting the stick back in her robes. "You heard the girl. We're keeping her."

And while Sarah was cautious and filled with apprehension, she was also fascinated by the place that she seemed to be in. While she had read fairy tales as a child, she had never imagined an older building (almost a castle!) so grand in scope and in size, the building taking on a majesty of it's own. She was fascinated by the sparks, flying out of that stick the woman tapped on her hand. And she was ready to take a chance and live the life that, just maybe, she had always dreamed of.

The man smiled at her and leaned in, reaching out his hand to shake hers. "My name is Albus Dumbledore, child, but you may call me Albus, and I am the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Sarah assumed that the puzzled look on her face was quite evident, and the three people around her chuckled.

"It's alright, you aren't dreaming. Now, how much do you know about the history of magic?"

* * *

Minerva McGonagall was pleased with the progress the girl was making. Although she was initially displeased when Albus had discovered her and brought her to the castle, she now found herself pleasantly surprised. Sarah learned quickly and seemed to have a positive outlook on her new life. Anything that could clear up this dreary castle over the Summer vacation, Minerva supposed, was a good thing.

However, after a few days of talking with Sarah and keeping her in the hospital wing, it seemed obvious that she would need some sort of larger purpose if she was going to stay at Hogwarts.

She could not be a student at the school, as she was too old to start as a first year and her magical skills had not been adequately developed. Due to her limited magical abilities, this meant that her options of study were limited. Madam Pince had agreed to let Sarah work in the library with her part-time, but Sarah's magic was not developed enough to pass the wards in the restricted section or even certain other areas of the library.

Therefore, it was with great trepidation and caution that Minerva McGonagall approached her final, and, her in opinion, most fitting option.

However, it was unlikely that the man in question would see her point of view.

She knocked on the door slowly, not wanting to disturb the occupant inside. She was rewarded with a response of "This better be important..." grumbled from the man inside, and she opened the door to reveal the sullen, damp quarters of Professor Severus Snape.

He was curled up in a chair reading, his sallow skin contrasted against the warm fire in the fireplace across from his feet. His protruding nose almost stuck fully into the book, with his oily, stringy black hair framing the pages.

"Severus, I have a favor to ask you," she started hesitantly, and the man in question responded with a fierce scowl.

"Whatever this favor is, it better not have to do with the new "librarian" that Albus found. I've heard about her, Minerva- a muggle? Honestly?"

Insulted, Minerva shot back a few choice insults about the Wizarding world's own opinion of Severus (and his "dark, greasy bat of the Hogwarts dungeons" status), and the man was silent.

"Now, we've gotten that out of the way. I'd like her to train under you. You've been talking about wanting an assistant, and she learns quickly."

"Absolutely not!" he shouted, closing his book and fixing her with a stern, cold stare with his coal black eyes. "I do not need some _amateur_ fiddling around my laboratory, messing up my potions and months of hard work. Besides, when I insinuated that I wanted an assistant, I meant one that was _trained_ in the subtle science of potion-making."

Minerva scowled, seeing that this was going to be a harder challenge than she had imagined. However, she did have one clever suggestion from Albus that she could entice him with.

"If you agree to take her on for a probationary period of a half year, you are excused from all mandatory staff-monitored functions for the next two years except for the opening and closing feasts. Yes, this includes the dreaded Yule Ball," she hinted.

Severus was silent. It was common knowledge around the school's staff that Severus Snape did not have patience for what he called the "sick, mating ritual" of student gatherings and dances. And two entire years? It was too good to pass up.

He crossed his arms over his chest sullenly and stood up, ushering her towards the door. "I am agreeing to no station of permanence, however, due to the _circumstances_ of this proposal, it seems to be in my best interest to accept." He scowled again and Minerva allowed herself a small smile, walking towards the door exiting his quarters.

"However," he continued, "if she's just another silly girl who wants me to teach her how to make love potions and potions to fix her hair, this assistance is entirely out of the question!"

Smiling, Minerva shut the door behind her, listening happily to the unhappy man in the room behind her.

It had gone much better than she had thought it would.


	5. Chapter 4: Ten Years

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Labyrinth or Harry Potter, as all characters involved belong to Jim Henson and J.K. Rowling, respectively.

Forget About the Baby

_Chapter 4: Ten Years_

It had been ten short years since her arrival at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and Sarah Williams couldn't remember being happier in her entire life.

The first year had flown by. Elated by her new magical knowledge and secretly delighted by her work with the surly Potions Master, Sarah spent her spare time adventuring on the grounds of the school, interacting with the students and making friends with a fair number of the the human and non-human residents of the school. While it was uncomfortable at first being a member of the staff and being the same age as some of the students, the anxiety and teasing soon slipped away as soon as the students realized that their much-loved Potions professor had his new apprentice on a rather tight leash (and felt incredibly sorry for her, though she couldn't understand why).

While she was challenged and overwhelmed by the initial work that Professor Snape demanded that she delve into, she was secretly pleased that she had her own purpose at this magical, wonderful place she had been assigned to. After learning how to brew potions that her supervisor deemed would be "elementary" and that first years completed easily, she graduated to assisting the Professor to making medicinal potions for the school, which he generally regarded as the bane of his existence.

Though he hovered over her like a bat as she completed the menial potions work, over time, he slowly allowed her a space of his own in his laboratory and let her develop her own style and preference. Professor Snape did not freely throw around compliments, however, he had rewarded her with a few choice ones ("more than adequate," "not pitiful", "far from an utter failure") that made her grin and helped her to gain confidence in her work.

Soon, the days ran together into months, and the months blended into years, and Sarah was brewing the potions by herself and assisting Severus Snape in grading first year essays. All of the members of the staff were secretly pleased with how quickly their moody coworker had taken to his new charge, as Severus tolerating anyone in his laboratory was no small feat.

Sarah, however, still wasn't feeling challenged enough.

Although she had never considered herself an overachiever, she could tell when she wasn't using her brain to her full potential. She did not have patience for "busy work" or time spent idle, and preferred instead to use her time productively.

Which is why she approached Headmaster Albus Dumbledore sometime during her third year in service, immediately following her nineteenth birthday.

She spoke calmly, not wanting to betray the desire and yearning in her plea. She should have known, however, that Albus was terribly skillful at finding the true meaning in questions.

"What's the matter, my dear? Are you bored of being around our dear Professor Snape?" he teased in response to her ardent questions and propositions, as she threw her heart out on the desk in front of her, waiting for him to step on it.

But he didn't.

And it was in this manner that Sarah enrolled in tutoring with most of the staff for the next four years, learning enough to give her the equivalent of a seventh year education. She paid for her sessions with small favors, trips to collect various ingredients, grading essays and taking over monitoring at staff functions. But she was secretly surprised as their lack of reluctance to tutor her, and their delight at discovering her hunger for knowledge. Having a student who openly desired to learn as much as she possibly could was a delight for the staff, and they all grew affectionate towards her in despite of her mysterious arrival and unknown upbringing.

At the beginning of her seventh year at the school, her magic seemed to blossom and take on a life of its own. Even Albus was surprised at her capacity for magic, but everyone mostly attributed this quick growth to the influence of the school on Miss Williams.

Sarah was surprised herself, and rather pleased. After feeling like she did not fit in for so long, it was remarkable to find herself welcomed in a community that she had never even believed possible.

She spent her evenings in the library, reading up on brewing techniques and researching the best way to collect ingredients. Severus never let her forget who first gave her a chance at the school, reminding her with numerous assignments and challenging work for her to accomplish. Sarah was delighted that she could assist him with his personal work and, although the two were not considered "friends" by any means, as colleagues they had formed an easy academic alliance.

After meeting with a visitor to the school at the end of her ninth year, a kind man named Nicholas Flamel, she quickly grew fond of the scholar and tried to discover everything she could about his passion: alchemy. While Flamel spent most of his visit having secretive discussions with the Headmaster (every time she curiously inquired as to their discussion topics, Albus would just get that frustrating twinkle in his eye), she found him at meals and bombarded him with questions. It was fascinating- combining chemistry and philosophy into a precise science!

The scope of Flamel's knowledge on the subject was remarkable, as though he had lived for hundreds of years which, truthfully, he had. Around seven centuries, to be precise.

But now it was the beginning of her tenth year, and she was pleased with how much she had learned and how she had grown and matured in her tenure at Hogwarts.

Lately, all Severus wanted to discuss with her were her prospects for a future, and she could not adequately express her desire to just _stay_ at the school for as long as she could. He couldn't comprehend how she loved the school and the children so much, and attributed it to the fact that she was so close to their age. She would grow bitter soon enough, he reminded her.

He demanded that it was not practical, that she needed a future- some property, her own family, a decent job- and sounded remarkably like a father figure while doing so.

Sarah was not in the habit of looking into the future.

And even if she was, it was unlikely that she could have predicted the sequence of events that were to happen next.

* * *

Sarah rested her hands in her lap during the Sorting Hat portion of the opening feast, sighing and trying to look as though she was thoroughly engrossed with the proceedings. Truthfully, it couldn't be farther from the truth- she was bored out of her mind. She had never felt any distinct attachment to any of the houses and found all of the legends surrounding them a little silly. Since she wasn't assigned to a house (although the Slytherins considered her one of their own, due to her apprenticeship with their beloved Head of House) she didn't feel any of that silly inter-house rivalry. Also, she found Quidditch quite boring.

It didn't help that she was plagued by a distinct lack of productive dinner conversation. Of the Professors seated around her at the staff table, those that weren't paying attention to the Sorting were engrossed in fierce debates about various things of little general importance, like the correct temperature to pot a Mandrake in or the history of the Goblin Wars in regards to Wizarding history and development.

On her left was Professor Quirrell, a new addition to the staff who wore a rather ugly purple turban and spent most of his time curiously twitching, which did not seem to recommend him for the Defense Against the Dark Arts teaching position.

Strangely enough, she had noticed that a teacher could not seem to keep the position for too long- no more than a year. Comforting herself with the fact that he would be gone soon enough, she directed her attentions to the man to her right, Professor Snape.

Severus was, however, engrossed in the aforementioned debate about how to properly pot a Mandrake (with Professor Sprout, sitting to his right) and Sarah could not manage to get his attention for anything more than a quick, fleeting glance before he started in on another fascinating subject, the inaccuracies of muggle temperature readings.

She was startled out of her ponderings by a vaguely familiar face stepping up to place the hat on his head as Minerva McGonagall read his name off her parchment list in her familiar brisk, harsh tones:

"King, Tobias."

Sarah's heart sunk into her stomach. It couldn't be more than a coincidence.

But as she surveyed the messy mop of blonde hair, her father's eyes and her stepmother's smile, she discerned that it could not just be her eyes mistaking her.

Instead, it was fate, playing a cruel trick on her.

She had presumed him dead, or at least not existing _anywhere_ near Scotland. She had figured that he had been turned into a goblin by that awful man that she did her best never to think about. She dreamed about him, sometimes, when she'd had a long day and she couldn't remember why she'd forgotten how much she ever loved him. Her heart was broken, wide open, and missing a piece.

He was sitting on a small wooden stool in the middle of the room, squinting as a fairly battered hat pondered where he was going to be placed in the great, vague class system of life in regards to the Wizarding world.

As if possessing a talent for saying things at the absolute wrong time, Severus leaned over to her, whispering in her ear.

"It's strange- no one knows absolutely anything about the boy's family, but it's rumored that he comes from some rich Wizarding bloodline in America. I suppose he'll be sorted into Slytherin," he finished proudly, anticipating another new arrival to his house.

He didn't notice the strange, slack-jawed look upon his apprentice's face as she relived every nightmare she'd had for the past ten years.

The hat proclaimed he was to be a Ravenclaw, and Sarah was satisfied that he was intelligent.

Or maybe he wasn't brave enough to be in Gryffindor.

Or sneaky enough to be in Slytherin.

She remembered when she would sit next to him before she attended school in the mornings, when Karen tried her best to scoop cheerios into his mouth and keep everything in the bowl from sloshing onto the kitchen counter.

As soon as everything spilled, which it always did, Sarah and Toby would sit together, forming little pictures and snakes and letters with the little pieces of cereal, saturated in milk.

She had never realized how much she loved him until she was gone.

And now that he was here, of all places, she had to confront the harsh reality that he existed and that, worst of all, he had absolutely no idea who she was or what she'd done to him.

The life she had removed him from.

The mother she had taken him away from, the warm arms and sweet sighs of childhood. The privilege of watching him grow older, the temper tantrums she would miss, the son that her father would never play baseball with.

It was all her fault.

She sat quiet for the rest of the Sorting, thinking through these new developments, and as mountains of food appeared on the staff table in front of her, she knew that she had lost her appetite.

Scooting out with her high-backed wooden chair, she laid her napkin on the plate in front of her, letting Severus know that she was feeling unwell before heading to her rooms in silence. She ignored the quiet whispers of the brick walls that used to delight her.

She did not know anything but the sorrow that encompassed her entire being.

For the first night in a long time, she did not have nightmares filled with regret, with longing, with sadness.

She slept a dreamless, quiet sleep because, this time, she was living her nightmares.

* * *

A/N: In case you're wondering, Sarah should be about 25 at this point, Toby should be about 10 going on 11, and I've staggered this so that this first year is in conjunction with the golden trio's arrival at Hogwarts. Yes, this is a bit of creative licensing, however, I have the right to do it. It's my story.


	6. Chapter 5: Memories

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Labyrinth or Harry Potter, as all characters involved belong to Jim Henson and J.K. Rowling, respectively.

Forget About the Baby

_Chapter 5: Memories_

"I just didn't know who else to turn to," she sighed, twisting her fingers around in her lap. "There's something wrong with my memories, and I keep remembering things that I can't really remember happening to me, personally. It's rather distracting."

The Headmaster nodded in response, sending a consoling smile the nervous woman's way. "I'd imagine it would be, my dear. If you don't mind my asking, what kinds of memories are these- from what period of your life do you think they fit into?"

Sarah's eyes glanced downward, busying herself with studying a fine set of quills on Albus' desk while she considered what she should tell the man who she trusted more than almost anyone.

"Memories from the time I spent in England, and a few things that happened... before I left," she answered, wincing at the thought of the events themselves. Opening her eyes, she observed the headmaster looking concerned as he reached under his desk and pulled out a circular tin with a yellow and green spotted pattern on the top. He removed the lid with a snap and offered her one of the red and white striped candies inside.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Would you like a peppermint?" he asked. Sarah politely declined, figuring that she couldn't stomach anything when her stomach was tied up in knots. Dumbledore unwrapped one deftly, sticking it in his mouth and smiling happily.

"In any case, there is a solution, if you would like to pursue it. It would be wise to keep in mind, however, that our memories are what make us who we are and influence our future choices. If these memories are plaguing you as bad as you claim they are, and you cannot fight them, I would advise that you remove them entirely," he mused, twisting his finger around a quill on his desk absentmindedly.

"Remove them?" she asked, her eyes widening.

"Of course! It will be as if they had never existed at all. You will know of the event in question, however, you will not feel the specific emotions associated with it or be able to witness the images play out in your mind. Very useful trick."

Sarah contemplated this for a minute, thinking of the pros and cons of being able to remove entire parts of her life. She could not fall asleep without a mild dosage of dreamless sleep potion, however, she had to admit that the dosage of the potion was starting to increase steadily as she built up a resistance to it.

She couldn't sleep without the nightmares.

She couldn't think about anything else.

At this point, she was constantly on end, a jittering, jumbling mass of nerves and uneasiness. It had been two weeks since the sorting and her life did not seem to be getting any easier.

Every year, once classes started, she and Severus would fall into a comfortable routine of working in the laboratory and evenly dividing grading work from his classes. Sarah would volunteer to take the easier classwork to grade, as she knew how much he hated it and he still refused to proclaim her adequate at grading his Newt level potion classes work. However, every time she raised an argument that she could grade Newt level papers in her sleep, he reminded her that her positive, sweet comments (as opposed to his negative, snarky yet constructive commentary) would not prepare them for a rigorous secondary education or future in the Wizarding World. Sarah always reminded him that little to no self-esteem wasn't going to help, either.

However, this year, the routine that she had grown so fond of had begun to fall flat. Severus would come in from his first years potions classes looking haggard and tired, complaining about the inadequacies of younger students in terms of their intelligence and stamina. While Sarah understood that a certain Gryffindor first year, Neville Longbottom, was not quite gifted at what her mentor referred to as the "subtle science and art of potion making," he also seemed to be hiding something else beneath his cold exterior and billowing robes.

He would flip through an old leather-bound set of notes and journals, tracing his fingers over the pages and losing himself in thoughts that she did not understand or know how to interpret. While he was known to go off and do research on occasion, he would come back even more haggard and tired-looking than usual, dragging his feet through the old stone corridors of Hogwarts. She would catch him as he returned on the nights when she took over his patrolling, watching him as he slithered into his room inconspicuously, wishing she could ask him what was wrong or assist him in any way.

Truthfully, Sarah considered him a friend. One of the first friends she had made in the Wizarding World, and one of the most highly respected, in her opinion.

She wished that he would extend her that same courtesy.

Flicking her eyes up, she noticed that the Headmaster was waiting for her response. Clearing her throat, she continued, "I'd like to give it a try if you don't mind, sir. Anything to help me sleep better."

He nodded understandingly, his clear eyes taking on that glint that she had grown so accustomed to. "Now, if you don't mind," he mumbled, wiping his hands on his robe slightly and reaching across the desk, resting his cold, slender fingers on her forehead. "I need to see what we're dealing with."

Before Sarah could protest, she felt his fingers twitch and warm magic pulse from his fingers, echoing her heartbeat and everything that she could think of.

Everything was black and then vivid, a clear picture of her stream of memories and actions, just waiting for him to delve into them. He reached out and picked a piece at random, watching as it twisted around his fingers, the cold, blue glow of a life lived in

_She was running through London, running away from Linda's short temper and her philandering, rich actor boyfriends, carrying everything she owned in a sack on her shoulder. Her feet ached and her heart echoed in her eyes, her voice sounding faint and weak. Her resistance was strong, but she had nothing, absolutely nothing._

_She reached in her bag and pulled out a crystal, watching the images swirl around on the inside like a snowglobe. Her dreams. Everything._

_Everything was gone, she thought sullenly. What did he know about her dreams? Or anything, for that matter. He had taken away the only person who ever loved her._

_And now he was dead and gone and she was almost dead and gone, sitting down on the cobblestones and feeling her pale skin and oily brown black hair with her bitten fingertips, scratching at her arms and_

_Instead she was in the bedroom, on that very night, holding Toby above her head in his striped red and white pajamas, twirling him around and speaking the words that would seal her fate forever._

_But what no one knew was that the King of the Goblins was a real, terrifying, selfless awful man who stole babies. _

_She lived the moment again, his regal appearance, his high and mighty, as he spoke to her, his hand outstretched._

_Holding the crystal._

"_Give me the child," he spoke, and she refused, initially._

_But her will was not as strong as his, and her kingdom was not as great._

_He had power over her and he was well aware._

_As she reached for the crystal, the memory collapsed again, turning to_

_The welcoming feast at the beginning of the year, the needles as they sunk into her skin through waves of pain and agony, the way his eyes lit up when he laughed, that toothless grin, her brother, her life, her everything as_

She pushed hard and after a few failed attempts managed to force him out of her mind, breathing heavily with the room spinning around her.  
Everything was out of control.

She placed her hands on her thighs and squeezed, doing anything she could to bring herself back into reality. She pleaded internally that he would not ask any questions, because she could not bear to explain. She would collapse, she would cry. It was all too much.

He removed his hands from her temples and gave her a few minutes to collect her thoughts before he spoke, the sorrow in his eyes betraying his cheerful demeanor.

"Now, my dear, the real work begins."

* * *

Sarah spent the next few free evenings she had working with the Headmaster in his office, petting his beautiful pet phoenix, Fawkes, as she learned about occlumency in regards to her memories and mental health.

Both of them decided that while she should remove the memories of her time in London, she would keep the memories of the time she spent with Toby, as they were balanced with her happiness and everything good she cherished about her childhood. This also meant that she would keep the memories of the Goblin King himself offering her dreams, and part of her was secretly relieved that she would not lose that memory. As with all good things, she had learned to regret that decision, using it to affect her future decisions. She understood what the Headmaster meant in terms of valuing regret.

Everyone in the school quickly noticed as she transformed from a sullen, withdrawn quiet young woman to a boisterous, active, playful participant in the school community. On one clear, crisp autumn afternoon, she skipped out to the Quidditch fields and watched practice, finally understanding the game thanks to the help of the attractive team captain, Oliver Wood, who had spent a few private hours explaining the mechanics of the game to her, though she had mostly paid attention to his rippling biceps. Also, she wanted to catch a glimpse of the youngest Quidditch player in a hundred years, the new seeker, Harry Potter.

The fact that he had also "single-handedly defeated" the Dark Lord was also a bit of a draw, she wasn't going to lie.

Harry himself seemed to be a little flustered by all of the attention. What no one else seemed to realize was that he was an eleven year old boy, and his life's priorities were quidditch, his friends and school, in that order.

Sarah was pleased to see that he seemed to fit in quickly with a group of like-minded Gryffindors- the youngest Weasley brother, Ron, and a smart witch from a muggle family, Hermione Granger. The three students were quite close, especially after a rather nasty encounter with a troll during the Halloween Feast.

Harry seemed to be the kind of boy who was always going to run into trouble, and Sarah was glad that he was getting used to it (or at least getting a little better at dealing with it).

She did feel a bit bad for him, though. Bad events seemed to try and seek him out, not to mention the hero status that he had acquired around the school. Half the student body was completely besotted with the boy who lived, and the other half were completely terrified of him. There wasn't much of an even balance or peers he could trust to have an honest, age-appropriate conversation with.

While she did not encounter him often (and her reputation as "that greasy git's personal slave" didn't help matters), she tried to keep a close eye on him and to minimize some of the trouble that seemed to be sent his way.

And though she had spoken with Severus about his withdrawn demeanor, he shrugged her theories off as though she was mothering him. She was slightly insulted by his response and resolved to make sure that he was not overexerting himself.

However, she was not prepared to run into him one evening as she carried her memories in one hand, having gone through the necessary procedures to deposit them in the pensieve and remove them from her mind forever.

He was hunched over the pensieve, his shoulders shaking as he tried to catch his balance and focus on the well below him.

Sarah could not see what he was watching, however, he winced in pain at certain points in the memory, the light from the memory itself playing onto his face in tricky patterns. Albus Dumbledore stood behind him a few feet away as he struggled to speak, spitting the words out with his heavy tongue and heavy heart.

"He wants to test me... to test... my loyalty. I cannot force him out of my mind as much... as I would like to... and he wants me to watch that stupid boy..." he groaned, gritting his teeth.

The Headmaster remained motionless behind Professor Snape, watching the younger man with a kind, tempered expression.

"It is a brave thing you are doing, Severus."

Severus grumbled in response about not feeling very brave, gasping and clutching his left arm in pain as soon as the words slipped out of his mouth. He cursed and gripped the sides of the bowl tighter.

Sarah quickly turned on her heel and left, not wanting to be kept watching that situation any longer. She was not a fan of eavesdropping, and having accidentally encountered a situation that she _knew_ she was not intended to be privy to was a little scary.

She tried not to watch Toby too much or too often, as it would seem suspicious. However, she could not keep from seeing him. She saw him in the Great Hall, joking around with his new friends at his house table.

She heard Professor McGonagall praise his early skills in charms, professing that he had a remarkable future in the field. He was intelligent and kind, from what she had heard.

As much as she wanted to, she couldn't even contemplate speaking to him.

But she resolved that, after the Christmas break, she would work up the nerve to stop watching and introduce herself.

Just as a friend.

* * *

A/N: Like I've said before, I am stunned and flattered by all of the attention that this story has received. I'm glad that I'm writing something innovate enough for all of you to pay attention to, and there's a few questions that have been brought to my attention more than once that I'd like to take a chance to answer right here. As I've learned, probably more of you are wondering and just haven't asked-

"Is Toby aware of who Sarah is because his memories were erased?"

Toby's memories weren't erased, however, you've got to understand that he was rather young when he was taken away and, therefore, doesn't have memories. If he does, they're probably rather vague. However, he has been imprinted a little bit, which will be shown in later chapters.

"Why hasn't Jareth shown up again yet?"

He'll be in the next chapter, I promise!

"Is this going to be a SarahxSnape ship?"

Sadly, no. While Sarah and Severus are going to develop a very close working relationship, as already implied, he's got too many problems to really pay attention to her. In the next few years he might develop a bit of affection, but I am not intending this to develop into a full-blown romance between the two. Besides, Sarah has a goblin king in love with her!


	7. Chapter 6: Homecoming

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Labyrinth or Harry Potter, as all characters involved belong to Jim Henson and J.K. Rowling, respectively.

Forget About the Baby

_Chapter 6: Homecoming_

Twisting his fingers around leaves in the Goblin Castle's vineyard, the boy known to his peers as Tobias "King" leaned towards the bunches of intoxicating grapes and inhaled deeply, reveling in the magical scent.

He loved living where it was summer year-round.

He did not need a last name in his homeland because, where he lived, he was known as Jareth Tobias, heir to Jareth, the current Goblin King who had been on the throne for the past 452 years. While the fae were immortal, running a Kingdom was a tiresome business and, save for the High King himself, most decided after seven hundred odd years or so that they were tired of the responsibility and prestige that came with the position, proclaiming an heir as soon as possible.

And although running a Goblin Kingdom was not the most taxing job in the Underground, it was something that one could grow tired of. Chasing and throwing Goblins into the bog, dealing with rogue chickens, taking care of the labyrinth and managing wished away children was a fair amount of work. However, the Goblin Kingdom was exempt from most large, lavish social functions, which was a relief as Toby didn't enjoy being dressed up and fussed over often.

His favorite thing to do was to spend time in the labyrinth.

Toby had once been one of the children wished away. He did not know anything of the person who had wished him away or whether they had fought to get him back, especially since his surrogate father refused to tell them. He spent his spare time in the Underground wandering the Labyrinth and checking in all the oubliettes and nooks and crannies he could find, hoping that maybe he would find his lost relative there.

It wasn't as though he did not enjoy his life in the Underground- he loved it. But no child wants to grow up wondering about the life they could have had, and sometimes, Toby's curiosity threatened to get the best of him.

Jareth really was the best father that a boy could hope for. The two of them often went out riding horses in the Goblin Fields on the border of their kingdom, enjoying the afternoon together, Jareth passing on advice about being a benevolent and fair (yet, overall, much too stern for Toby's liking) ruler. They spent as much time as they could together and even looked alike, starting rumors among the Fae court that Tobias was not a wished-away-child at all but, rather, a love child from one of Jareth's many conquests and paramours.

However, Toby knew a few things that the Fae court did not.

1. His father had not taken a woman to his bed in the past ten or eleven years, the entire time Toby had been living with him, and Toby was not entirely sure why. While his upbringing must have been stressful and a lot of work, Jareth employed plenty of caretakers and nurses around the castle. And it wasn't like his surrogate father was exactly an unattractive man. He just didn't seem to find _anyone_ attractive.

2. While he had developed a fair amount of magic, Toby was human, through and through. He was expected to evolve into fae after fifty years time of living in the Underground, but at this point, save for a pair of slightly pointy ears, he was just human, meaning that Jareth couldn't possibly be his biological father.

3. His father refused to marry and would not talk about any of his past relationships, though he would occasionally imply that he had been in love, once. Toby figured that he still was.

4. There were things that his father would never talk about, and Toby's family was one of them.

Toby figured that he had suffered something particularly devastating or tragic in his past life because every time he tried to bring up the subject with Jareth, the king's eyes would grow dark (around with the surrounding magical aura) and he would quickly change the topic of conversation.

Example:

"_Father, did I ever have any siblings?"_

"_... Finish your breakfast before it grows cold, Tobias."_

Really, the only thing Toby lacked were companions his own age, which is why when the Hogwarts letter arrived at the castle the previous fall, addressed to "Tobias King," he begged his father to let him attend school Aboveground. At first Jareth protested, claiming that there was nothing that Toby could learn Above that he could not learn in the Underground, where it was much safer.

However, after Toby locked himself inside his room for three straight days refusing to eat and/or talk to anyone, Jareth realized he was stuck. He did not know how to reason with children very well, just their spoiled and rash guardians.

And now Toby was back in the Underground after his first semester of school and bored out of his mind. He missed his friends, his classes, his teachers (even Snape, the oily evil Potions master) and the castle itself.

Sitting with Jareth in the vineyard, they discussed everything Toby had learned so far and the friends he had made. The two of them had written letters back and forth all semester, but it did not compare to being able to discuss events in person, reading facial expressions and delighting in the joy of each other's presence.

Toby spoke enthusiastically of all his new friends, seeming pleased with the people he had encountered and the connections he had made, speaking fondly of a girl in his house named Lisa Turpin. Jareth was startled at the familiarity with which his son spoke of these mortals, however, he trusted his heir's judgment.

Playing with the fingers on one of his gloves, Jareth idly conversed with his son, hardly noticing when his son mentioned that he felt a strong, ancient magical presence in the school. The king remarked that there were plenty of ghosts and old history in the building to set off such alarm, and to not pay any attention to it.

Had Jareth even sensed the fae magic that was in residence at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, he would have cause for alarm.


	8. Chapter 7: Neither Dwarf Nor Giant

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Labyrinth or Harry Potter, as all characters involved belong to Jim Henson and J.K. Rowling, respectively.

Forget About the Baby

_Chapter 7: Neither Dwarf Nor Giant_

Pressing her nose against the icy window, Sarah watched the snowflakes flutter to the school grounds, coating the grass and building with a pure white blanket. Her cheeks turned red, her chapped lips delighting in the prospect of the cold.

It was her tenth Christmas without what she considered her real family, and she was hesitant to admit that this was the time she would, inevitably, miss them the most. She wondered what they were doing, how they were celebrating. If they were celebrating the way that they all used to- the same traditions, the same guests.

When she was younger she didn't enjoy the fancy Christmas parties that her mother would throw, feeling alienated and out of place among the tuxedos and beautiful women in ballgowns. The pomp and splendor of a Williams family Christmas was replaced with the arrival of Karen, who came from an Iowa family who were comfortable and filled with warmth.

Although Sarah never admitted it to her stepmother, those family Christmases were eagerly anticipated on her part, excited about the large dinner and songs around the piano from years past. After the arrival of Toby into their lives, the holiday was made even more meaningful, due to the love and closeness a small child can bring.

But now she was so far away from that life and while Hogwarts was her new home, it just didn't feel like _her _home, sometimes. The stone hallways were too cold in winter, and while she could find the occasional common room fireplace, it just wasn't the same as the house she had spent fifteen years growing accustomed to.

She was startled out of her musings by the Potions master striding down the hallway, his robes billowing behind him. The usual stern frown on his face had been replaced by a more amicable grimace. He was cheered by the absence of students, as always, and Sarah had always wondered why he had become a teacher in the first place, due to his obvious dislike of his pupils.

"Miss Williams, did you collect the doxy venom I had asked for?"

Sarah groaned, placing a hand over her face and wincing. She had meant to travel to Hogsmeade the day before to pick up the ingredient, as the Professor had been working on a serious project and didn't have time to. She was initially surprised by his request as she had never been to Hogsmeade before, but she attributed it to his growing trust for her, which she was secretly delighted by.

However, she meant to ask Fred and George Weasley for the easiest passage out of the school (as it was rumored that they knew a few passageways and she did not desire to venture out into the snow if at all possible) and couldn't manage to find them in the large castle.

Apologizing profusely and stammering, she was startled when Severus, whom she expected to be irate, instead gave her a wave and what looked like a hint of a smile.

"You can go tomorrow. In the meantime, I have a more serious problem that I require your assistance with."

* * *

"Are you sure that 'size' and 'insides' are a good rhyme?" Sarah asked, tracing her finger over the piece of parchment on the laboratory table in front of her. She absentmindedly stirred a cauldron with a green, bubbling potion to her left every five minutes, switching between clockwise and counterclockwise stirs. The professor stood two spaces to her right, hunched over a small cauldron with a basket filled with wormwood and asphodel sitting next to it.

"I am not sure what else to make a rhyme with, and it works with the rhythm and meter of the poem. Also, I cannot think of another way to write that clue," he admitted sheepishly, adding another sprig of wormwood to the lavender concoction in front of him.

Curious, Sarah leaned over and peered in his cauldron after giving hers a clockwise turn. "That doesn't look much like Draught of Living Death," she commented absentmindedly, pursing her lips in thought. "The ingredients look the same, but that's not the color it's supposed to turn at the fourth stage."

"Inspired observation, Miss Williams," Severus replied sarcastically, yet lacking the normal biting tones she had become accustomed to. "That is because it's not. It is, instead, the very potion you have in front of you, in an earlier stage. Yours needs to simmer for another hour or so, but is practically complete."

Sarah looked down at her cauldron again, noticing the steam wafting up from the cauldron and the specific coloring of the potion. "I don't think I've seen this potion before," she replied matter of factly.

"Also correct. I am positive you haven't, as this is a potion of my own design- a variation on the very potion you marked as familiar."

"If I'm not being too nosy," she continued hesitantly, "what exactly _is_ it?"

He grinned triumphantly as the potion turned a darker shade of purple under his supervision. "I have been calling it 'Draught of Death,' due to the base potion. I made it for a... former employer in my youth, and I have been perfecting the brew ever since." Severus glanced downward, focusing his full attention on the potion, refusing to meet her eyes.

Laughing, Sarah asked in mock-seriousness "What kind of employer would require you to brew such a potion?"

"The worst kind, Miss Williams, and that is as far as I am willing to elaborate."

They continued to work in silence, both uncomfortable due to his response and her pressing question that gleaned the answer. As her potion simmered, she worked up the courage to ask a second question.

"Can you at least tell me what we're working on this project for?"

"While I cannot provide you with specifics," he noted objectively, "I can assure you of the project's intentions and eventual goal. There is a very valuable object being guarded in this school, and each professor has been assigned a task by the headmaster in order to protect it."

"Well, whoever you're guarding this object from probably isn't very smart, as this logic puzzle is terribly easy," she joked, stirring her potion again. An uncertain grin made it's way across her face.

"Do I need to remind you, Miss Williams, that most of the population does not possess the astute logic skills that you have been endowed with?" he smiled back at her and she knew she had been forgiven for her earlier misstep.

After another few stirs of her cauldron, Sarah let her eyes wander, delighting in the smells and the murmurs of the quiet Potions workroom. A quick look over at her companion confirmed that he shared the same belief as his eyes were slightly closed,

He asked her a question a few moments later and she had to ask him to repeat himself, as she was startled by the break in silence.

"I asked, what are you planning to do once you leave Hogwarts?"

Sarah sat for a minute, pondering the question and the implications behind it.

She hadn't given much thought at all to leaving Hogwarts. Ever. In fact, she had barely left the school grounds in nine years and she was perfectly content staying on them for as long as humanly possible. Was Severus Snape implying that he was going to retire? Could he find no use for her, anymore?

"Haven't really thought of it," she replied nonchalantly, stirring her potion again in mock confidence, betraying the nervous tremors she felt creeping up her legs and the butterflies in her stomach. She bit her lip to try and still the pressure. The room was starting to feel a little warm.

"Well, you should consider your options. Being a young woman in your position, you cannot possibly entertain thoughts of wasting your life here, being a teacher's assistant or even a qualified teacher yourself," he said, almost considering the various options in his mind while speaking. "You could work under a qualified master to get your masters in Potions and conduct research, you could become a mediwitch..." he trailed off.

Though his words were not meant to come off as abrasive or rude, she could not control the anger (coupled with anxiety) that bubbled up in her very being. "I don't consider spending my time at Hogwarts to be 'wasting my life,' and I certainly feel that I've gained a lot in my employ here. You've been here for fifteen years, at least," she spat out, choosing her words carefully.

"You are an obstinate girl, and completely misinterpreting the meaning of my statement. Do you honestly think that I enjoy spending all of my time here?" Severus asked, his tone raising in anger in response to her own. "If I was not bound to this school in such a way as I am, I would have never set foot in this horrid place ever again!"

"Precisely- you won't even tell me why you're still teaching, since you claim to hate it so much! And what's so wrong with my being here in the first place? Are you that desperate to be rid of me?" Her eyes glimmered with tears she was holding back, the sadness threatening to overwhelm her argumentative state.

As if on a precise timer, the potion in front of the Professor turned a perfect emerald green, hissing softly.

"Obviously, you are in no state to continue this discussion. Please manage to contain your emotions and concentrate on stirring this potion," he motioned towards his own cauldron, "as I have urgent business to attend to."

He strode quickly and elegantly out of the room, his robes trailing behind him in a sinister fashion, and it took all of Sarah's composure to focus on the task at hand and keep from bursting into tears.

She realized that she hadn't given any thought to her future- to a life that she could rebuild. She had been so overwhelmed with the opportunities presented, so elated with the chance she had been given, that she hadn't bothered to contemplate where she would go from here.

But that her mentor and the brilliant man she respected above anyone else could not trust her, that was almost too devastating to consider.

She could not win a place in his life as a friend. Just an apprentice.

* * *

After a particularly cold and sullen December, the students returned to the school and the surly Potions master regained his trademark sneer. Sarah was a bit startled at the amount of points that had been taken from the various houses since break had ended. She was secretly a tiny bit pleased that their argument had thrown him into such distress, but her pleasure was overwhelmed by the concern she felt for her friend.

His worst moods tended to manifest themselves after teaching First Year Potions classes with the Gryffindors and Slytherins. Curious as to what was bothering him, Sarah crept into the classroom one afternoon after finishing sorting some manuals for Madame Pince. She busied herself with one of the storeroom closets, sneaking a glance and trying to interpret what was irking him so profoundly.

After a few minutes, she was completely astonished and slightly shocked.

His demeanor had completely transformed, changing him from a moderately angry, sullen old greasy git to an incredibly irate, sinister bat of the dungeons. He had taken off about sixty points from Gryffindor in the span of two minutes, swooshing around the cauldrons and hovering over any student who dared to question his recommendations or instructions.

"Mr. Longbottom, if I have to tell you _again_ how to properly crush your alihotsy leaves, I will force them down your throat," he snapped, rubbing his temples and gritting his teeth.

She had never seen him so angry before.

The boy in question, Neville Longbottom, shivered even more and managed to adequately crush the said leaves, though Sarah thought he wasn't doing that awful of a job. His bushy-haired partner, Hermione Granger, shot the Professor a frustrated glance before assisting Neville in crushing the leaves.

However, the worst of the rage seemed to be directed at one person- Harry Potter. Every action that Harry made seemed to be the wrong one, and every choice seemed inaccurate to his teacher. After reprimanding Harry for adding the wrong amount of Essence of Belladonna (which truthfully wouldn't affect the potion in question all that much), he then lectured Mr. Potter for five minutes about the proper way to stir, claiming that the boy was not properly taught how to use the wrist to stir instead of the fingers.

If Sarah didn't know any better, she'd swear that he was inventing reasons to harass Harry. However, that would be slightly irrational, but, she realized, not entirely unreasonable.

She filed away the information as a mental note, promising herself that she would contemplate it more later. All of the yelling was making her head hurt and she grabbed a vial of Erumpent Fluid for a potion she'd been working on earlier in the day.

Other than Snape's moody First Year classes, nothing else seemed to be quite remarkable at the beginning of the year.

Though she tried her best to restrain herself and keep him from noticing, Sarah realized that Tobias King knew she had been keeping an eye on him, for whatever reason. Although she knew he did not find her presence particularly threatening (yet), she tried to keep a lower profile and almost worked up the nerve to speak to him one afternoon, as she saw him out on the grounds, conversing with the Giant Squid.

She was not brave enough, at this point, to try to confront ten years of unhappiness and repressed memories.

But she resolved that she would try, and soon, as she would not lose this chance to, hopefully, fix one or two of her past mistakes.


	9. Chapter 8: The Goblin Prince

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Labyrinth or Harry Potter, as all characters involved belong to Jim Henson and J.K. Rowling, respectively.

Forget About the Baby

_Chapter 8: The Goblin Prince_

"Sire, what are your thoughts on the proposal?" a gruff voice asked, directed by a goblin in a bronze set of armor, sitting next to the throne of the man addressed.

Jareth lounged casually on his throne, his boredom and fatigue clearly evident in the occasional yawn emitted and the drowsy expression on his face. After sending Tobias back to his school, he had not slept well for days, feeling unable to pull the worry from the forefront of his mind.

He was not used to not seeing. Or, rather, he wasn't used to being completely unaware of anyone's whereabouts. It had only happened twice in his life- in the case of his son, attending Hogwarts, and in the case of the girl. The only girl. The girl who'd let him down. She was dead now, though, so it wasn't as if it mattered anymore.

Hogwarts, that awful school, had plenty of magical barriers applied, meaning that he could not use his crystal to view his son's whereabouts at any given time. Although Jareth figured it was for the safety of the students, he was still rather bothered at the time limit one must wait to receive a letter from one's child. It was a little testing on his nerves.

Not to mention the suspicious occurrences at the school Tobias had mentioned during his visit. Why did Jareth send him back to that dangerous place? He filed a mental note to keep Tobias at home, permanently, once he returned for the Summer holidays.

And in the case of the girl, well, that was entirely different.

The very last time he had seen her was in London, wandering the streets with her clothes filthy and her spirit broken. He refused to interfere, telling himself that she was only receiving what she had deserved, her just punishment. While he had marked her with certain powers, if she had chosen to abuse them and wish away her younger brother, that was her own fault.

But what he had not figured into the equation was her guilt and regret. Jareth figured he had done her a favor- he had done everything she had asked him to, gone above and beyond any expectations.

In exchange, she repaid him with the deterioration of her spirit, as he watched her life crumble and her world fall down.

She had suffered emotional abuse at the hands of her real mother, Linda, and set off into a life of rapid satisfaction, trying to find a thrill. It was almost too painful to watch. He did not realize that she would abandon her dreams so easily.

He had given up watching, having seen her near the end of her life and watching her life pass through her slender figures.

But it was pointless to think of these past events. The girl was probably dead at this point, and her problems were of no use to contemplate.

Jareth held up a crystal in his hand, twisting it deftly around his fingers and staring into it with meaning and passion.

"Show me Sarah," he whispered softly.

And instead of the past memories and smiling child he had expected to see materialize, he saw a young woman, looking to be in her late twenties. She had a determined look on her face as she surveyed what looked like strange vials of poisons and ingredients in the window of a shop in some Wizarding community or other. Her ebony hair was swirled with flecks of golden brown and red and tumbled down her shoulders gracefully. That ridge on her nose, those full lips- he would have recognized them anywhere.

For the first time in, well, his entire life, Jareth was completely dumbstruck.

* * *

Pursing her lips in thought, Sarah Williams stood outside Flourish and Blott's in Diagon Alley, studying a few volumes of potions manuals piled up in the window. She delighted in the warmth of the spring sun on her pale skin, having felt that she was on the verge of looking like a vampire when she spent all of her spare time in the castle.

After consulting with the Weasley Twins and finding the quickest passage into Hogsmeade, she picked up a few bags of sweets before apparating to Diagon Alley to get the rest of her shopping list.

She was completely overcome and in love with the bustling life that she found all around her. After ten years in a dark, stone castle (admittedly, the most beautiful place she'd ever lived in), she was finally out and on her own. She'd had no reason to leave before, and felt no desire to.

However, due to the pressing of Professor Snape and the Headmaster's paternal instincts, she found herself caught in the swirling robes and hurrying witches and wizards of Wizarding London.

While Hogwarts was filled with plenty of impressionable young, talented magical students, the variety of the people she had encountered in just one day was simply astounding! Foreign wizards and diplomats on visits to Gringotts, scholars and travelers doing research and purchasing collectible items, and small children with their chubby faces pressed against the windows at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, delighting in the smells and sensations wafting out the door. Sarah had spent a fair amount of time outside over the years, but this was completely different. It was better than talking softly to the Giant Squid out on the grounds, sitting cross-legged on the grass, reading smutty witch romance novels and running her fingers through her hair. This was real. She could touch it.

She could touch everything, and she found herself doing just that.

Feeling the tapping of the cobblestones under her feet, she walked lightly, feeling the wind brush through her very being and envelop her with a caress. It was a beautiful afternoon, and she was pleased to be outside.

Taking two right turns, she cradled the bottle of Doxy Venom in her right hand as she stopped at Gringotts Bank, grabbing the brass handle of the imposing door with her left hand and pulling slightly. While she was in control of her finances, she had arranged with the Headmaster to transfer her funds directly to Gringotts and had been in mail correspondence with the bank, handling her money through owl post and money transfers over the Floo System. However, she was excited to see the bank itself and travel to her Hogwarts vault. Though she was not by any means considered wealthy in the Wizarding community, she had acquired a small, modest sum with which to live on (and buy the occasional book or two).

Walking to the desk and hiding the nervousness she felt (she had never enjoyed the presence of goblins since... the incident), she crossed her arms behind her back and waited for a goblin at the front desk to quit whatever else he was working on. There were four of them at the main desk, all working on scribbling on various parchments... rather fervently, Sarah noticed.

Now that she paid more attention to the situation, they all looked a little rushed with whatever they were doing. All wizards seemed to be out of the building, and Sarah was surprised that she had not yet been ushered out herself. She turned around and found three other goblins casting various nonverbal spells to clean the floor, the rug, and all of the opening vault doors leading down to the underground vaults. More goblins in outfits that looked somewhat akin to muggle security guard uniforms walked out, polishing their badges and standing in attention at the front door.

It almost looked like they were preparing for the presence of a foreign dignitary or president or some kind of... king.

Immediately, Sarah tried to clear the thoughts from her mind, oblivious to her rapid breathing and that she was growing faint with worry. She couldn't see him again. Not here, not now, not ever. Not after what she had done. And these weren't the same kind of goblins- were they? They looked different, at least. Far more intelligent.

And the doors flew open and, thankfully, it was not who she thought she would see. Instead, it was someone else- someone entirely different.

As Tobias King strode through the doors of Gringotts Bank, Sarah was stunned to see the absolute strangest thing she had seen all day- her (former) younger brother, enveloping the goblin Griphook into a large hug as the foyer erupted into cheers of "Long live the Goblin Prince!"

Sarah ducked behind the front counter, hiding behind some stacks of files and official looking papers.

She didn't exactly feel that she was meant to be privy to this scene.

And she wasn't quite sure what her opinion was of it, either.


	10. Chapter 9: His Equal

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Labyrinth or Harry Potter, as all characters involved belong to Jim Henson and J.K. Rowling, respectively.

Forget About the Baby

_Chapter 9: His Equal_

* * *

_April 13, 19XX_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_Father,_

_Spring at Hogwarts is absolutely beautiful, though nothing compared to the splendor of our castles. I wish you could see it, though. There's so much to do here! My friends and I spend our time outside by the lake, having picnics and doing our studying outside in the optimal weather._

_To answer your questions: yes, I know Sarah Williams. She is an assistant teacher at our school to our Potions master, the one I don't like very much. How do you know of her? She spends most of her time at the castle here, and I don't know too much about her except that she is also working in the library. While I do not see her often, I sometimes feel a bit... strange in her presence. Isn't that silly? She looks at me as though she knows some secret and that she's known me for a long time._

_Her magic is very powerful and I can sense it- it almost seeps out of her in waves. However, the wizards at this school can't recognize her type of magic, as they are unable to sense mine. If I didn't know any better, after paying attention to her for a while, I'd almost say that she was the fae presence I had felt in the school. Is that how you know her? I'd love to have someone else of fae lineage to talk to._

_I am eagerly anticipating another letter in response to my own, and I'm counting down the days until Summer break._

_Love,_

_-T._

* * *

"Lemon drop," she spoke softly, careful not to disturb the quiet stillness of the corridors. The words tumbled out of her mouth, causing the stone figure in front of her to open, revealing a spiral staircase.

Sarah's hands instinctively went to her pockets, playing with the seams on her robes out of nervousness. While she did not want to speak to him of this, she didn't know who else to talk to who could possibly understand.

Walking up the stairs, she knocked on the door twice before the headmaster beckoned her to come in, sit down and take a seat in his office.

After initial welcomes and inquiries as to her well-being, he asked her why she was visiting so late in the evening and whether it was a matter of great urgency. His eyes twinkled as he spoke, twirling his beard with his long fingers absentmindedly.

"Well, two things, actually- first, I've still been having certain problems with my dreams and certain nightmares I've been having. Also..." her sentence trailed off as she twisted her fingers in the inside of her robe pockets nervously, contemplating whether to tell the man in front of her about her curious visit to Diagon Alley and the questions that had plagued her ever sense. Whether he knew about Toby... whether he know who Toby really was, and who he had been living with, that terrible man.

As if understanding her inquiries completely, the Headmaster sat up in his chair, giving her a comforting smile. "My dear, some secrets are better kept as they are- as secrets. There are things that I do not need to know, and if it is not a matter of life and death, I suggest you keep this information to yourself."

Weirdly enough, Sarah almost thought he knew exactly what she was trying to tell him. It always scared her whenever Albus Dumbledore did something like this. It was like taking a page right out of some strange horror movie where the killer snuck up behind you and read off your social security number and told you what color underwear you were wearing, just because he knew what it was.

Shaking off her fears, she continued, "In that case, my dreams. While I had taken dreamless sleep potion for a while, I fear growing too dependent on the potion and forming an addiction."

"There is something important I will show you, but before I can do that, you need to fully understand what your dreams are telling you right now. What they are telling you about your life, how you have lived, and how you hope to live," he mused, glancing sideways in thought. "Think of how they affect you from day to day, any sleeplessness that occurs. Think of what your life would be like if you didn't have them. Without fully understanding these dreams, you can do nothing to combat them."

She pondered his words for a moment, crossing her legs at the ankle and rocking back and forth in her chair. Could she understand her dreams? It was true- she refused to confront the subject, instead doing her best to block them from her mind.

But as she blocked her dreams she grew weaker and more sedate, losing her passions and exchanging them for a life of dreamless sleep, too many health potions to count, losing the beauty in the world around her and losing the love that she had spent so long nurturing in her heart, learning to rebuild what she held dear. The circles under her eyes were not only indicative of a lack of sleep, but betrayed worry and stress, the bruising reminiscent of the dark clouds of her nightmares. The baby in his arms, his tall, regal form. Her fear of him and yet her passion towards him.

She could not forget the way he smelled that evening, like cool rain and heavy clouds hanging in the sky, twisted around greenery and a strong, musk note that she could not explain. He was everything she feared in her life.

At the time, she did not understand this longing and passion, attributing it to the loss of her brother. While it was partially true, her longing for love was just as strong, leaving her to romantic whims and unrealistic fairy-tale notions.

But when she fantasized, all of her heroes had the same blonde hair, the same arched eyebrows and strong posture, the strange muscled thighs and fit figure. She had seen that figure before. Her longing would not manifest itself in any other form.

While Sarah was sure that her passions would never be fulfilled, by conquering them and putting them behind her, she could form new dreams in response.

She smiled at the grandfatherly old man in front of her, grinning from ear to ear. "I'm up for the challenge, sir."

* * *

After doing as much research on the subject as she could, Sarah was completely frustrated and utterly stumped on the existence and history of the fae.

While the Wizarding world's knowledge of Goblins was limited, their grasp on fae legend was tentative at best, throwing out theories that faeries reproduced almost like insects, growing from larvae to pupa and so on. Some awful man named Gilderoy Lockhart had written a book claiming to save a faerie colony from certain death at the hands of some mischievous Cornish pixies, describing the faeries as initially harmful creatures whose bark were worse than their bite (she considered the book to be a bit of an exaggeration and absolute rubbish, to be honest).

But just as she thought she had reached a dead end, a discussion with Madam Pince revealed a book on legends of the fae that the librarian regarded as "inaccurate." Sarah was willing to take any information she could get, at this point.

Opening the leather-bound book, she quickly flipped to the chapter on leaders of the fae.

_While Fae rule separate kingdoms, they are all governed by a central power of the High Kingdom, ruled by the High King himself. Because the Fae are an immortal race, they choose their own terms and tenure to rule and most rule for a term of between 500 and 1500 years. _

_The Fae, as leaders of the Underground, are benevolent rulers and govern their kingdoms with a fair hand. The main kingdoms under the influence of the High Kingdom are the Sea Kingdom, the Goblin Kingdom, the Mountain Kingdom and the Dwarf Kingdom. Each possess their own set of challenges constructed by the leaders themselves and rule over a different species and set of creatures. For example, the Goblin Kingdom possesses a Labyrinth which a mortal can run when challenging the leader, and the main species governed over are the goblin race, though many goblins also live Aboveground_.

After a few hours, she felt more informed and knowledgeable about fae tradition and what, exactly, she had wished her brother away to. She was puzzled, however, about the passage referring to the fae taking lovers, which she peeked at in curiosity.

_While Fae are known in popular modern culture to be sexually ambiguous and adventuresome, realistically they only mark one as their potential mate, challenging them with a planned ordeal and set of skills they must overcome to be their equal. Fae love only once and they love only one for their entire lives which, seeing as they are immortal, would be as long as they lived. _

Forever would be a very, very long time, she thought.

And as she contemplated a love that would not disappear, a passage from the red book that enveloped her childhood suddenly sprung into her head, the words she had skipped over in boredom, not realizing the true meaning.

_But what no one knew was that the King of the Goblins had fallen in love with the girl, and he had given her certain powers._

Her mind flickered back to the regal, beautiful man in front of her and the words that she could not understand, the power he had given her, his affections. Say the right words, the Goblins said, and they'd take the baby. They took the baby.

Her thoughts picked up speed and raced against her rapid heartbeat, tracing the words over and over again in the fae legend book as her mouth grew dry.

Her powers, her admission that she was not his equal. Had she refused... a marriage proposal?

Fuck.


	11. Chapter 10: Heart's Desire

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Labyrinth or Harry Potter, as all characters involved belong to Jim Henson and J.K. Rowling, respectively.

Forget About the Baby

_Chapter 10: Heart's Desire_

Sarah could not believe the turn of events that the past school year had taken, though she found the eventual division of house points a little silly and unfair (and felt a little bad for Slytherin for being lead on like that). Professor Quirrell, hiding the soul of Voldemort under his turban? That's the kind of thing you'd want to keep a secret.

She walked slowly down the third floor corridor, smiling and waving at various students heading home for the summer, laughing to herself in a quiet, inside joke at the pleasure and quiet the stone walls would bring.

Truthfully, she could not have wanted anything more, at that point in time. Or so she thought.

She stepped past a few more empty, deserted rooms and turned back towards the stairs, having finished her share of the rounds of the castle, but a certain door in particular caught her eye. While there was nothing remarkable about the door itself, there was almost a pulsing energy that seemed to be breaking out of the room, beckoning her to come forward.

While she had learned in the past that nothing was exactly what it seemed in her favorite castle, Sarah threw caution to the wind and placed a hand gently on one brass handle, tugging slightly.

She was surprised at the ease of which the door opened and stepped inside the room, initially let down by what she saw inside- a mirror. There were a few books piled up in the corner and a rug on the floor, but the only thing of any real significance was the mirror.

It was a tall, oval mirror with a glassy surface and elegant carvings in brass with inlaid leaves. On the top, the words "_erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi"_ were inscribed. Sarah traced her fingers over the thin letters, thinking to herself quietly. Were they some kind of... riddle? She had always been good with riddles.

Disregarding the mirror's inscription for the time being, she gazed into her reflection, intending to check her hair.

Her heart sped up quickly at the sight she saw instead, blinking twice to clear her vision and try to categorize what she had seen.

Where her reflection should have been, she saw a younger version of herself, smiling lovingly at her younger brother, Toby, who stood next to her mirror self, waving. The first thing she realized was how happy her reflection and her brother looked together, grinning at each other as they did when they shared a particularly silly inside joke.

Her two parents, her father and her step-mother, stood behind her mirrored self as all four of them laughed together, looking like the perfect picture of a family.

Sarah could not draw her eyes away.

She knew it was an illusion, she knew it wasn't real. It couldn't be real. That wasn't what her life had turned into.

But wasn't it better to look at what could have been instead of the life that she had been resigned to? It wasn't as though she particularly enjoyed the life she had.

Hearing the door creak behind her, Sarah jumped in surprise and whirled around nervously to see the surprising sight of Headmaster Dumbledore, giving her the knowing smile that she had grown so fond of. He stood next to her quietly for a minute or two before he placed a hand on her shoulder and spoke to her.

"My dear, you are not the first to have discovered this mirror. It has had many uses, not all of them particularly good, and it has served a final purpose," he told her quietly as she fought to draw her eyes away from her brother's smiling reflection.

She was still and quiet, not daring to respond. He continued.

"What do you see in the mirror?"

Pondering the question and debating what to tell him, she decided that a half-truth was better than a lie.

"I see... my family. My parents and my younger brother."

He nodded knowingly and his eye took on another twinkling glint. Sarah was getting a little sick of the twinkle. It made her dizzy, as though someone was rifling through her mind's drawers of information.

"Keep in mind that while the mirror can show us what our heart desires, it does not always show us the _exact_ truth," he stated plainly, pausing to smile at her reassuringly. "I will leave you here for a few more minutes, but I request that this is your final visit. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live."

Sarah reached a hand out, placing it on the surface of the mirror, tracing the outline of her figure slowly.

She remembered what it felt like to have a family, to have people to spend time with, to have people who loved her for everything she really was instead of letting her strive to be a person that she wasn't.

She remembered what it felt like to be loved.

* * *

She spent the first few weeks of summer assisting Professor Snape, delving into potions and pushing the Goblin King and her brother into the farthest realms of her mind. She wondered what they were doing together, right now, and where they were.

No, she wasn't wondering that. She wasn't going to think about it.

The Headmaster had left a few days prior on a trip to the Burrow, replying to her inquiries with the message that there was a parcel that needed rescuing. Sarah secretly wondered if that "parcel" was a certain Potter child, but refused to bring it up. Especially not with Severus, who managed to scowl and scare the living daylights out of her whenever she mentioned it.

Furrowing her brow in confusion, she stirred a conception potion for the infirmary as she focused her thoughts on pummeling the one man who deserved it most in the entire world and his arched eyebrows, his puffed hair-

"Miss Williams, if you stir that potion any more furiously, the effects will be lost and your previous three hours of work will be for naught," Professor Snape proclaimed, scowling at her in frustration and pushing the cauldron out of her way, proceeding to stir the potion with his slender, nimble pale fingers.

She muttered some apologies and sighed, placing her face into her hands. She sat up a minute or so later, watching him stir the potion.

Her tired eyes were barely open, from lack of sleep and nightmares, and she could not focus if her life depended on it.

Professor Snape leaned over towards her and she could smell the sulfur and coal lingering on his robes. He cleared his throat nervously and she looked up, startled.

"I have a matter that requires some taking care of at my home in Spinner's End. I was wondering if you would like to accompany me on the journey," he said, trailing off near the end of the sentence.

Sarah perked up, realizing that she probably looked like an idiot with how large her smile was. A trip! To Snape's home!

"You mean like a vacation?" she asked gleefully, clapping her hands in delight.

"No, you silly girl, not like a vacation," he groaned, "There will be _work_. I'm going to expect you to apply yourself on this 'vacation'..."

But Sarah had already walked off, murmuring something about a suit for bathing, and Severus realized that it was a lost cause to try and convince her otherwise.

Secretly, he was pleased.


	12. Chapter 11: Power

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Labyrinth or Harry Potter, as all characters involved belong to Jim Henson and J.K. Rowling, respectively.

Forget About the Baby

_Chapter 11: Power_

He was back

He was back. He didn't want to return to the school, after two blissful weeks of brewing in the warm, heavy summer air with his beautiful apprentice. But he always came back.

Not because he loved teaching, not because he loved his students, but he was drawn to the job for one reason and one reason only: the debt that he was required to repay.

And as he described the gruesome meeting with his former master, Severus Snape was sickened by the turn of events that his life had taken.

He shook his head, trying to disperse his thoughts in order to focus on the task at hand- an accurate description of the dark revel on July 31st of that year, from which he had just returned. He sat in the office with the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, as Severus' hands shook and he grew pale with fury and repressed anger.

He really wished that he hadn't come back.

"You mentioned that Tom gave Lucius Malfoy some kind of... gift? A book?" Dumbledore asked, crossing his hands and sitting back in his chair.

Snape sighed, trying to remember exact details. "It looked like some kind of journal or research volume. I am not exactly sure what he intends to do with the book, all I know is that he gave it to Lucius for 'safekeeping.' What that might entail..." he trailed off, grimacing.

"And what did he ask you about Sarah?"

Severus sat up abruptly in his chair, his shoulders practically connected to his neck. He hadn't mentioned a damn thing about the girl! But Albus knew, he always knew.

"Oh come, Severus, my boy! I have never seen you this morose after such a meeting. He obviously harbors some kinds of intentions towards the girl. I'm surprised he didn't mention her presence sooner," the Headmaster pondered, losing himself in thought momentarily.

Professor Severus Snape let his shoulders relax again and let himself swim through his memories of the previous evening, looking for any hint of his intentions and how his former master planned to harm her, to take advantage of her, to use her as Tom had used Severus before her- as a pawn. Some "gift" that he could discard, whenever he saw fit.

"_I hear that your mudblood bitch of an assistant has grown quite intelligent, Severus," Lucius Malfoy insinuated, sauntering over to the man in question. "Are you planning to put her to use for the cause or just to use her as a paramour? My son says she is quite close in all of your affairs." _

_It took all of Severus' self-control not to slap the smarmy, disgusting git standing before him at Malfoy manor. He could not, however, hide the look of apparent shock and disgust on his face, deciding to play it off as a tactic for the conversation. Putting up his mental barriers, Severus responded carefully and calculated his next move._

"_Honestly, Lucius, you have known me long enough to know that I do not trifle in the affairs of mudbloods," he scoffed, his eyes growing dark. "While I find her a mediocre assistant, at best, I find her American habits and tendencies quite disgusting."_

_The self-satisfied smile dropped off of Lucius' face. _

"_But she could play a purpose, Severus-" a voice hissed from the chair at the head of the table as the mangled, temporary form of Lord Voldemort was reflected in the mirror before them. Severus had created the two way mirrors years before as a tool to communicate with the Headmaster as part of his spy work. He found it ironic that these very mirrors now had such a dark purpose and intent. _

_Severus turned his head in mock interest and admiration. "My lord?" _

_Voldemort continued, "She is very close to the Headmaster and I have felt her power before, when I was in the school connected to Quirrell. Her untapped power that she has not taken advantage of. I wonder whether she is aware of it, building within her, and whether we may find a way to harness it for... our own gains."_

_He wasn't exactly sure what Voldemort was implying, but he knew that he wasn't pleased by it._

_After that line of questioning, the formal dinner was finished and Lord Voldemort took Lucius aside to give him the diary, stressing its importance. Severus wondered why he hadn't been chosen for the task and made a mental note of it. _

_And everything grew damp and black now as he watched the dark revel commence with the rest of the death eaters- the killing, the torture, the stinging of tears at the corner of his eyes behind the mask he wore to hide his identity. _

"I'm not aware of what he intends for her," Severus began, "But I know that it isn't probably very good. Something about untapped power?"

The Headmaster's eyes lit up, that boyish twinkle reappearing in the corner of one eye. "Of course! Her powers, obviously, drew him to her."

Completely confused and a little befuddled by the situation, Severus continued, "I was under the impression that Miss Williams was not a remarkably extraordinary witch."

"She is very brilliant, as you are well aware, but she has not even scratched the surface of her magical limits. She has an astonishing grasp of wandless magic for someone of her magical experience and age."

Professor Snape pondered this and came to the conclusion that she was, well, brilliant. She was a remarkable witch, challenged only in potential intelligence by a witch in the entering second year classes, a Miss Hermione Granger, who could possibly be the most intelligent witch that Severus had seen in a long time.

He would never tell either of these women, however, that he admired their intelligence and drive. It was rather uncouth. Especially considering their respective circumstances- one was a student in his most hated house, Gryffindor- a gutsy little slip of a bushy-haired girl without restraint or any level of respect.

And as for his apprentice, Sarah... why couldn't he tell her how intelligent he was? He almost seemed to freeze up whenever he tried to complement her or tell her how well she had done on a certain potion, pronouncing her results to be "adequate" instead of the "astonishingly well" that they tended to deserve.

What she deserved, he realized, was more credit than he was giving her.

And as he lost himself in praise and recognition that he could not understand in regards to the woman in question, Albus Dumbledore said something that made his thoughts stop abruptly in mid-step.

* * *

"This is ludicrous!" her mentor and trusted friend exclaimed, pacing back and forth inside of his laboratory.

Sarah tried to argue that she didn't find it ludicrous at all- in fact, she thought it was rather noble of the Headmaster to suggest such a mission for her.

It did not even seem possible to her that Severus Snape could grow angrier than he already seemed to be. But he did, rather easily, in fact. He strode over towards her, throwing aside chairs, robes billowing behind him in anger and overcome with terrifying rage.

"You do not know what it is like, Miss Williams, to sign your life away to the devil," he spat out with evident disdain, grabbing her shoulders so tightly that Sarah was positive she would see tiny, fingerprint-shaped bruises marring her ivory skin the next day.

"It is my decision and mine alone," she stated, trying to hide the fear in her voice that seemed to permeate every fiber of her being.

Severus shook her shoulders again, his eyes growing darker, shadowed by the cliffs of his forehead and his intense eyebrows. His gaze, however, seemed as strong and as intimidating as ever.

"You cannot comprehend the mistake that you are making."

His voice seemed sadder than she had expected as he sighed and released her shoulders abruptly, slumping down on the table next to her, burying his head in his arms.

And everything she had done up until that moment, the way she had acted and how she had protested against him, suddenly seemed juvenile and idiotic. Did she really understand what she was doing?

Headmaster Dumbledore had approached her in the Great Hall after her return, pulling her aside to speak to her about (what she regarded as) of a matter of great importance: becoming a spy for the alliance in the fight against Lord Voldemort.

Sarah was terrified that the most evil wizard Britain had ever seen had taken a specific interest in her, or at least the way that the Headmaster seemed to imply. What was it, exactly, with evil, magical men being attracted to her? Never mind, she didn't want to know. She didn't even want to entertain the prospect of thinking about it.

But she thought about it. She still did. She still thought about the terrifying Goblin King and how he compared to the man in the mortal battle before her. The Goblin King didn't exactly qualify as... evil, did he? He was just doing what she had asked him to. To take away the baby.

She'd gotten her wish, alright.

And she'd, apparently, also refused a rather enticing marriage proposal.

But, she argued, she had been fifteen! She had no experience of the world, no prior knowledge, nothing that she could claim could give her enough self-knowledge to know what she wanted out of her life. What she wanted to accomplish. Who she wanted to love.

A marriage without love, Sarah supposed, would have been completely terrifying.

But there was the part of her that realized that she could have learned to love him. She already was physically attracted to him, and maybe if she had run the labyrinth to retrieve her brother she could have discovered more about herself in the process. She could have made the decision to marry the Goblin King with full knowledge of what she was about to enter into.

As Headmaster Dumbledore expressed that she had an important role to play in the war, she realized that she _could_ have an effect on the war, to protect the world that she valued above none other.

She realized that she had power over Lord Voldemort. He wanted to control her, to figure out what was so mysterious about that Sarah Williams girl, that little, unremarkable woman who seemed to burst at the seams with power.

And, more importantly, she realized that he had no power over her.

Sarah could discover this magic, she could realize the potential that escaped her, the power bubbling in her fingertips that she did not know how to explain.

She had the upper hand in this battle. She was more experienced, she was more intelligent. It was as though she had been given a second chance to prove herself.

And she resolved that, this time, she would make an intelligent, informed decision to fought for what she believed in, instead of letting it slip through her fingertips all over again. She would do it for Toby and the life that the two of them could have had, together, but she would, above all, do it for herself.


	13. Chapter 12: Violation of School Policies

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Labyrinth or Harry Potter, as all characters involved belong to Jim Henson and J.K. Rowling, respectively.

Forget About the Baby

_Chapter 12: Violation of School Policies_

Sarah spent the remaining portion of her summer in the library, reading all of the volumes she could find on the first battle between Voldemort and the Wizarding World before his disappearance. She had arrived only a year or so after the end of his disappearance and Britain's subsequent celebration.

However, they had still been rebuilding.

Death permeated her surroundings, family members had been missing, everyone knew someone who had died. Death, everywhere.

She thought back to the end of the previous school year, where Voldemort (in some form) had been living on the back of Quirrell's head under his turban- a fact that still freaked her out quite regularly. While she did not see the face, she presumed that he must have been a shell of his former self and his former power.

And now he was alive, somehow. She figured that he was trying to get some kind of body together, though she had absolutely no idea how he was going to manage that.

She needed to know her enemy.

While Severus wasn't exactly pleased with her new topic of research, deeming that there were "probably more important ways to spend your time," he agreed to help her in any way he could, answering some of her questions about the Death Eater ranks. Sarah realized that Severus was an experienced and rather cunning spy- just another thing she had learned to admire about him. She figured that she'd never stop being surprised by his abilities and that she'd just have to come to terms with that.

And everything else was just reading near the lake in the cool, late summer air, trying her best to pull her thoughts together and letting her mind wander towards thoughts of a man she used to know and a shy, golden-haired boy whom she desired to know again.

* * *

Letting her eyes wander over the plate of food in front of her, she decided to finally give up on the task in front of her, setting her fork gracefully down on her plate in front of her. She could not concentrate.

It was not that the food in front of her didn't look appetizing- the Great Hall had managed to outdo itself every year since she had arrived at Hogwarts. Instead, her eyes were drawn to the Ravenclaw table to the right of her position, wandering over the students.

Sarah fought the urge to stand up in the hall and run to the only one that mattered- to talk to him, discover how he was doing. Learn about how his summer had been.

He had grown taller, almost by an inch in the span of the past few months. His face had lost some of the baby fat it had once held, reminding Sarah of his fleeting youth and the pain of his adolescence which she could not experience. She could not help him. She could not guide him, she could not even talk to him.

She didn't know how.

Toby chuckled softly at something one of his friends was saying at the table, pushing his food around slightly on his plate and taking in another mouthful of his food. The words bubbled to Sarah's lips as she died to shout, to scream, to take him in her arms and make up for the years she had missed at his side.

She pushed her plate away from in front of her, folding her hands in her lap and placing her napkin on the table. This "concentrating on anything but him" thing didn't seem to be going over very well.

Looking over to her left and expecting to see a surly Potions master, she was startled to find that the man in question was not in residence at his customary seat. All the students in the Great Hall seemed to have noticed, too- they looked as though Christmas had come early, shooting excited glances up at the empty seat at the staff table.

Ignoring the exciting ramblings of the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor next to her, Gilderoy Lockhart, about some rubbish banshee fight, she let her gaze wander over towards the Gryffindor table, not knowing why she was compelled to look.

Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were missing.

Sarah racked her mind for an explanation, managing to only come up with the positively unreasonable:

1. The disappearances of Severus Snape, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley had absolutely nothing to do with each other. Nothing. Whatsoever.

She scowled, her thoughts pacing in her brain. That didn't seem very realistic, especially considering how much the professor hated the two boys, though Sarah was hesitant to point out that it was really only _one_ of the boys he hated...

2. Severus had managed to kill Harry and Ron before the beginning of term.

While it would probably improve the professor's mood if the aforementioned had occurred, Sarah didn't think it was very realistic (and/or positive) to presume such a thing. He probably would be fired.

3. All three were violently ill.

Again, not realistic, though she'd heard that colds in the Wizarding world could be especially awful. Especially the magic-sucking kind.

4. All three had been kidnapped by Death Eaters.

More realistic, but still, probably not the sort of thing that happens before the year's opening feast. Sarah figured that Voldemort had a better plan that just swooping in and grabbing his mortal enemy, or whatever.

5. They were out to lunch.

Shaking her head at the last option in disbelief, she laughed to herself softly, stretching out her arms and leaning back in her chair. Whatever had happened, it obviously couldn't be too bad.

And then she noticed that Professor McGonagall was missing.

And so was the Headmaster.

Were the boys expelled, for some reason? Had something happened to them over the break? Sarah was alarmed, but she was more alarmed about what she'd discovered during her thought process- she was alarmed. About two boys she barely knew.

But she was also worried for one of her best friends, the Professor who she respected more than anything. Had he done something wrong?

As she tried desperately to think of any explanation, Sarah saw a tiny, bushy-brown head of hair standing at the table before her, bobbing up and down in impatience with her hand raised.

"You know, this isn't a class," Sarah began, peering over the table at the girl jumping in front of her and determining it to be a Miss Hermione Granger, a (now) second year Gryffindor. "You don't have to raise your hand if you want to tell me something."

The girl stopped jumping immediately, her cheeks taking on a slight blush.

"I'm sorry- I'm just so nervous, you see, as I've never talked to you and you work with Professor Snape down in the dungeons, and- oh, it's so awful! I don't know what's happened!" Hermione started to shake again involuntarily, her eyes welling up with tears.

Sarah sighed, deciding she should try and convince the girl in front of her to stop her terrified shaking. "Is there something you want to tell me, Hermione?"

Hermione stopped again, clutching her fingers tightly to her robes.

"Oh, I can't believe they would do something so stupid! I was worried when I found that they weren't on the Hogwarts Express, but I'd determined that they were just late or taking an alternate route; I never would have dreamed that they would have done something like this- the tree! The car! What if they got... expelled?"

* * *

Clutching her sides tightly in laughter, Sarah doubled over, unable to control herself.

"I really don't see what's so funny about the blatant violation of school policies and disrespect for rules and regulations, Miss Granger. These boys could have been seriously injured," Severus stated, crossing his arms and scowling at her under his thick eyebrows.

Sarah just laughed harder, tears starting to stream down her cheeks. After a few minutes of glaring from the surly professor and silence in the room, she finally managed to calm herself down, breathing heavily with the aftershocks of laughter.

"So, wait- they crashed a flying car into a tree...?"

"Yes," Severus responded, "And the tree crashed back."

The laughter was uncontrollable this time and he scowled at her as she lost her composure once more, her face turning red. This time, though, he allowed himself a small smile.

Apparently, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley had missed the Hogwarts Express that afternoon and, instead of just waiting for a different train or contacting the school (or their parents), they decided it would make much more sense to just take their family's flying, robin's egg blue Ford Anglia. Severus would never understand children.

Well, children in general, but more importantly, Harry Potter. Just like his father, always pulling pranks and never thinking of the welfare of those around him.

He had to make a heroic entrance into the school, didn't he! Just had to show everyone else up. The train wasn't good enough.

Sarah had calmed down again and was giggling softly, twisting her hands together in her lap.

"Are you quite done, Miss Williams?" he started, shooting her another one of his trademarked glares.

She inhaled deeply, her chest inflating with the intake of air. Her chocolate colored loose curls bounced on her shoulders softly as she exhaled, her entire demeanor relaxing. How could such a simple thing make her enjoy herself?

That was what puzzled Severus- her mirth in simple things, her joy in living life from day to day. While she was a particularly intelligent woman, she was also childish and imaginative. The two did not seem to go together, in his experience.

And yet, with her, they did.

Her pink lips were parted softly and he could see her teeth behind him, hidden by the outline of her ivory cheeks and faint blush. Her breathing was not as heavy, now, and her eyes were framed by the dark lashes he had grown to admire.

Unwilling as he was to admit it, he had not admired a woman like this for longer than he could remember. He was almost blatantly leering at the girl, his _apprentice_, no less, and for what? So she could learn that her disgusting Potions teacher had a schoolboy crush on her? That he was sexually attracted to her?

It was simple, it was pure, it was animalistic. It was just her looks, he kept reminding himself.

And, really, that could not have been farther from the truth.


	14. Chapter 13: Anger

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Labyrinth or Harry Potter, as all characters involved belong to Jim Henson and J.K. Rowling, respectively.

**WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS DESCRIPTIONS OF IMPLIED SEXUAL ABUSE AND RAPE.**

Forget About the Baby

_Chapter 13: Anger_

* * *

_October 11, 19XX_

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_Father,_

_You may consider these fears unfounded, but please take them into account, either way. I'd like you to try and keep a closer eye on the school, right now._

_I don't know what's going on, but I feel a presence in the school- almost an immortal presence. Although this may seem a little silly, the magic is tainted with fear and rage, and the darkest power I think I've ever felt._

_I hope that I am safe here at school. I don't want to bring this up with the Headmaster (who would just meddle and mess things up, anyway) so I'm speaking to you about it._

_I hope that everything is going well in the Underground, and I will see you over the Winter Break._

_Love,_

_-T._

_

* * *

_

"You need to _concentrate_, Sarah; the Dark Lord can and _will_ penetrate any weak defenses. Have you listened to anything I've told you for the past two hours?"

Sarah maintained that she was trying to concentrate. It was just that, for whatever reason, she couldn't.

At first she attributed it to the Professor's cold, slim fingers on her temples as he bore into her mind, giving her goosebumps on the back of her arms and thrilling her heartbeat into a mad, racing frenzy. She had not been touched, by any man, in a very long time.

But then she heard it.

She felt it in the tips of her fingers, the magic bursting through her fingernails, dying to crawl up the walls. She could sense the static in her hair, twisting and forming electricity around the room. She was conscious of everything and yet nothing, consumed by the senses around her that seemed to be driving her crazy.

There was magic.

Old magic. Powerful magic. The kind of magic she hadn't felt in almost forever. Or, to be more exact, around twelve years.

Her eyelids grew heavy and the room was warmer than it should have been, and she felt so much _anger_. She had never felt this much anger before, not ever.

And as she tried to force speech and tell the man in front of her to stop, his hands flew out at her temples again, flayed at her forehead, the determined look playing on his features.

She felt the magic from his fingertips and tried to keep him out and she could not. She could not keep him from her memories. Not this time.

* * *

Severus hated looking into someone else's memories. He felt it was almost too personal, and preferred not to, honestly. While working with Miss Williams was a necessary exercise, he wished that she was a little better at keeping him out.

But something about this memory, the one he was standing in, seemed a little out of place.

He was in an ornate, Victorian bedroom- a four poster bed, satin, purple sheets, matching window curtains, carved oak. There was a girl laying on the bed in front of him, twirling her hair around her fingers and staring into a crystal ball.  
Severus hoped the girl wasn't a seer. After being around Professor Trelawny, he now considered divination a pretend science.

She twisted her legs around, kicking at the long hem of her dress and focusing at the scene in front of her. He could not help but notice how attractive she was- such a young girl, looking like she was fifteen or sixteen. Her skin was a pale, pale ivory, with a gentle line of freckles dotted across her nose.

Her hair was a dark chocolate brown, almost black, with soft loose curls framing her face. While the dress she wore was attractive, it almost seemed too young for a girl her age- it was a shapeless dress, a light pink, with a long skirt and lace against the bodice and long sleeves. It was fancy yet modest and did nothing to highlight the excellent figure that Severus supposed was underneath.

Oh shit, had he just thought that? She was a _young girl_, and he had never felt so sick in his life, not nearly as much as he felt in the present moment, in that memory.

But as her eyes flickered against the surface of the crystal as she watched the scene inside, whatever it was, her lips parted slightly and her brow furrowed in concentration.

He realized he had seen that look once before, playing against the delicate face of a young woman of close acquaintance as she brewed potions in his lab, focusing intensely on the task in front of her.

He knew it had to be Sarah.

He walked around the bed, curiously leaning and trying to find the source in the crystal of her amusement. He had almost made it over when-

The door was opened abruptly and Severus almost ducked out of view, forgetting he was in a memory and reverting to years of spy training and techniques.

Sarah shot up, adjusting her skirt and schooling her features into a neutral mask.

A tall, slender man entered the room. He had light brown hair and wore a simple suit, fiddling with a watch in his right vest pocket. He moved quickly but deliberately, and Severus could hear the sounds of a celebration or gathering going on in the lobby downstairs, the clinking of glasses and fine china reverberating through the silent bedroom.

The man walked over towards Sarah, leaning down towards her, speaking to her as though she was a child.

"Darling, why aren't you at the party for your mother?" he asked her, reaching a hand out to stroke one of her pale cheeks. She flushed against his touch and drew back nervously. Impulsively, though he knew he could do nothing in the situation, Severus leaned forward, his shadow falling on the bed.

"Why are you being so selfish, playing with your toys upstairs?" he asked again, his words forming a hiss after their departure.

Sarah fidgeted nervously, fixing her hands in her lap and looking up at the man in front of her. "I don't know any of those people downstairs, they're all Mother's friends and actors and your agent friends. They make me nervous," she admitted.

His hand traced the outline of her cheekbone and she leaned forward, the collar of the dress moving away from her slender neck. Severus suddenly noticed the ugly blue and green fingerprint shaped bruises that marred the sides of her neck, their outlines forming painful flowers against her pale skin.

The man paused before he spoke again, his fingertips splayed against her face.

"Why are you being so selfish, Sarah? Are you too good for your mother's friends? Do you think you're better than her?"

Sarah's eyes widened in fear and she inched back noticeably.

"Jeremy, please, that's not it-"

And before Severus even noticed, the man reached out and struck Sarah across the cheek, the red marks causing welts and swelling. She cradled her cheek against her hand as she tried to scramble away, her skirts gathered around her legs. He reached out and grabbed her by the ankles, pulling her forward.

"You little whore," he hissed again, grabbing her thighs roughly. "Seducing your mother's husband and making him do these things to you? You enjoy this, you slut, don't you?"

Sarah nodded hesitantly, her entire body shaking as he slipped a hand under her skirt roughly.

"You deserve this, you know that?"

She nodded again and she gasped as he pulled her toward her, and Severus had never seen a sicker thing in his life. He reached and screamed and did what he could, but he could not touch the intangible, dirty scene in front of him, as he watched her beaten and battered and bruised, he saw all the bruises she was hiding under that dress, he heard her screaming in pain.

And Severus heard her whisper as he fucked her mercilessly and painfully that she deserved it, that she deserved all of it.

The memory swirled again, twisting and changing and he could not be more thankful, seeing as he would have done anything to remove himself from the scene in front of him. To keep it from ever existing. To block it from his mind.

He was in a different room, now- a child's bedroom, with stuffed animals and books and toys. He felt comfortable in this room, more comfortable than he had felt in the museum he had been placed before.

He saw Sarah, looking almost a year younger, staring defiantly at a figure in front of her.

And as he turned around, willing his eyes to focus, he was pulled out of the memory by some unknown force and found himself staring at the woman in question, once again, in the present reality.

Her shoulders shook as she breathed heavily and his eyes widened as he willed himself to ask the questions that she did not want to hear.

And, instead, she jumped up, pushing the chair out of her way quickly.

And she ran.

* * *

Professor Minerva McGonagall walked briskly through the dungeons in that evening, twisting through the corridors that she had memorized and formed patterns of in her mind.

She found the night patrols, while sometimes boring, very relaxing- offering her an opportunity to spend time with her thoughts and ponder the day's events.

Turning a corner and walking towards the left, she saw a shadowy figure in front of her. Her hand instinctively clutched her wand for protection.

As she moved closer, slowly, she realized it was just one of the students, out wandering around after hours. It was Tobias King- one of the second year Ravenclaws. He seemed to be talking to himself as he walked through the corridors, glancing up at the walls and tracing the stones under his fingertips.

And as she moved closer to tell him to return to his dormitory and go to sleep, she noticed the shadowy figures behind him, reflected against the wall and forming into unfamiliar shapes, into everything she had ever feared.

She turned around and walked away, making a mental note to discuss it with the Headmaster.

Strange things were happening in the school, and she was determined to get to the bottom of it.


	15. Chapter 14: Halloween

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Labyrinth or Harry Potter, as all characters involved belong to Jim Henson and J.K. Rowling, respectively.

Forget About the Baby

_Chapter 14: Halloween_

While there were far more important, pressing matters in his life to consider at the moment, Severus Snape was perfectly happy doing what he enjoyed more than anything in the entire world- taking away house points.

The red-haired, bumbling Weasley twins in front of him were still laughing themselves into a fit over a display of what happened when one of their "filibuster fireworks" was fed to a salamander. Sadly, the first years in the Gryffindor common room that had been present were suffering from serious trauma after having watched a salamander explode to little bits in the fireplace of the Gryffindor common room. The boys' head of house, Professor McGonagall, was preoccupied setting up for the Halloween feast that evening and Severus had gladly volunteered to give the boys their punishment.

"So, you think this is funny, do you? Causing shock and alarm, setting your own common room on fire?" he snapped, watching the gleeful looks in their faces slowly grow into a more solemn, appropriate mask. While he figured the change in mood was, mainly, to appease him, he wasn't entirely displeased by their effort.

"Honestly, sir, we were just testing out one of our products," Fred- or was it George? Severus could never tell the two apart and, frankly, he saw no need to- replied, sighing. "I mean, would you rather have us test them on the students?"

"I would rather not have you test them on school grounds at _all_, actually, and while we're on that subject-" he continued, noticing out of the corner of his eye that the boys had stopped talking and had started staring at whatever seemed to be behind him with unmitigated lust. Since Severus figured the object of their desire wasn't one Albus Dumbledore, the only appropriate reason for an interruption in such circumstances, he swung around, robes flapping behind him, preparing to reprimand a lewd, slutty fifth year Gryffindor or Hufflepuff girl for interrupting his lecture.

Instead, what he saw was entirely the opposite.

Where he had expected to see an unformed, teenage body and a shameful display of inappropriate, barely-there apparel, instead there stood a beautiful woman, modestly clothed in a black robe which seemed to cling far too close than it had been made to allow. Her hair bounced on her shoulders in loose, chocolate colored curls, twisting down her back into a mess of ringlets. She wore hardly any makeup, but what she had on was delicately applied, accentuating her features and giving her an ethereal glow.

And as he surveyed her appearance over again, fully aware that the two adolescent boys behind him were staring with the same rapt gaze of amazement, the images of her upon her arrival flashed in his mind, watching her grow into the apprentice he had grown to depend on more than any other member of the Hogwarts teaching staff.

Or, if he were really being fair, he depended on her more than almost any other person he'd ever known.

He trusted her more, too.

She was not perfect, but her imperfections made her beautiful. Her freckles, while they could be considered unattractive, marring her ivory skin, instead gave her an appearance of vitality and strength, highlighting her stubborn nose. Her eyes were too large to be considered beautiful, but when she smiled and her eyes crinkled at the corners, he considered himself lucky to be in her presence.

And while her figure was not perfect, it was much better than it had been when she had first arrived. He could remember what almost no one else could- the scared, teenage girl whom Albus carried in that evening, her dirty clothing practically melted onto her skin. He remembered the cuts and bruises on her skin, her veins pumping what was left of her blood into the rest of her body as she fought to stay alive. He remembered the syringe pockmarks and shaking, trembling characteristics of what muggles referred to as a "junkie"- a drug addict.

He remembered her memories in which he had, unfortunately, been an unwilling voyeur. Of that man, Jeremy, who stood over her and cursed at her and did vile, filthy things to her. He had nightmares for a week of that crying, broken little girl. It reminded him of the things he'd done in his past, the dark revels, the events he had tried to push out of his mind-

And as he surveyed her appearance at that current moment, he could safely say that this could be considered an absolute transformation.

She smiled and he fought the urge to pass out into a dead faint.

Repressing his embarrassing, inconvenient schoolboy tendencies, he scowled again, watching her cheerful expression drop abruptly. "Miss Williams, I expect there to be an excellent reason for this introduction."

She shrugged and waved at the two pupils behind him happily. They waved back before grabbing onto the table before them with both hands, knuckles white, probably restraining the urge to jump at her and ravish the beautiful woman in question. Severus couldn't really blame them. And he was the one forced to work in close proximity with her for countless hours every day. He was going to have to go blind or make her work in the other laboratory from now on. Then again, lack of sight could be an impediment in Potions making.

And since when had his thoughts gone from practical to completely illogical?

He couldn't concentrate. Instead, the smell of her hair was leaving him completely befuddled. He couldn't place it- she smelled… clean, almost. But instead of being just a simple smell of soap, there were hints of jasmine and chamomile mixed in. Subconsciously, he grasped the folds of his robes and held his hands still.

"Actually," she spoke softly, "Minerva wanted to know when you were going to finish the ceiling illusions for the Halloween Feast tonight."

Shit. He had forgotten about those.

And the potions bubbling in his laboratory.

And the task list of parchment on his desk, overflowing with things he needed to finish in the next few days.

He opened his mouth to respond before she interrupted him, speaking again in a smooth, calming tone "Now, Severus, I know you've got plenty to do right now. How about I assign a punishment for these two and you can go finish all of the work you've got planned for the next few days?"

Yes, that would help. She could discipline the Weasley twins and he could finish his work.

Paying no thought to the facts that:

1. Sarah enjoyed spending time with the Weasley twins (though he had no idea why) and probably would not punish them.

2. Even if she _did_ assign a punishment for them, they would still be allowed to attend the Halloween Feast, which he was going to prohibit them from attending.

3. Both things considered, he really couldn't think straight right now, due to the uncontrollable urge to grab the woman in front of him and cart her off with the sole intention of doing very, very devious things to her.

So he turned around and walked to his office, barely missing the high-five that the two boys gave each other.

He figured that, really, it was no big deal. It was one of his favorite holidays and a chance to get some work done, maybe get ahead on some reading and relax for the evening, since he wasn't on patrol that evening.

Really, this was a bit silly. Had he known the events that were to occur around six hours from that point in time, he would have realized that he wasn't going to get any work done. At all.

* * *

Sarah Williams giggled as she took another drink from her goblet of Pumpkin juice, surveying the festivities around her. She had set the Weasley twins free, figuring that they would get themselves into trouble again by the end of the night that they could be adequately punished for (the next day).

She ran another hand through her magically untangled hair, silently thanking the two Gryffindor sixth-years who had helped her perform a glamour charm or two on her tangled, messy mane. And judging from the looks she was receiving from some of the older male students (not that she was interested, obviously), the charm in question had done its job quite well.

She was constantly fascinated by the rituals of the Wizarding world and, on holidays, she was again reminded of how thankful she was to live in such a place. There were real, live bats fluttering around the ceiling, casting shadows against the illusion spell that Severus had finished that afternoon. Hagrid, the groundskeeper, had carved out some massive pumpkins he'd been growing, setting them on display in the Great Hall and holding a magical carving competition for the fourth to seventh years. Some of the designs were rather terrifying- Sarah had to keep reminding herself that a few of the pumpkins weren't really the vampire undead- made worse by the fact that they constantly moved and changed, clashing their pulpy fangs against each other.

There were plenty of fireworks and shouting, as every Hogwarts holiday function was known for, and Headmaster Dumbledore seemed to be engaging in an epic battle of Wizard chess against Professor Flitwick near the other end of the staff table, both players constantly cursing their pieces for drunkenly misbehaving. She noticed that there were a few students noticeably missing- Harry Potter and his best friends- and reminded herself to make a mental note of it.

As she leaned forward in her chair again, taking in the sights and sounds, she noticed a house elf carrying a platter of empty goblets walking dangerously close to a fourth year Ravenclaw's outstretched leg. She reached for her wand to try and stop the inevitable collision, but as she did, several things happened at once and she noticed, at once, that everything in the Great Hall had slowed down and grown quiet.

People were caught in mid motion, slowly eating their food, laughing at their friends' antics, reaching for a candy off a center platter. Things that had been quickly flying in mid-air were slowly floating, taking forever to reach their destination.

She also noticed that apart from Tobias King, she was the only other person moving at a regular speed.

Glancing at the window, she was startled to see a snowy white owl, banging its wings against the glass panes, eerily reminiscent of the night that had changed her life forever. She would have paid money in a bet that it was the same owl and, theoretically, the very same Goblin King. The one who could re-order time and take away her baby brother, taking him to live in the castle beyond the Goblin City, forever.

Until he arrived at the Wizarding school she happened to be in residence at, messing up everyone's carefully-laid plans.

Sarah felt the urgency of the situation as if he was clearly transferring his feelings to hers- panic, danger. Danger that he could not control. She met the bird's raven black eyes, focusing intently.

And everything sped up again and her own racing heart could not convince the calm, composed demeanor she was trying to construct.

Someone ran into the great hall, yelling about a chamber being opened. The panic that she felt in her heart suddenly transferred into the entire room.

And Sarah, as she unfortunately had a tendency to do in these kinds of important situations, promptly collapsed.


	16. Chapter 15: To Forget

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Labyrinth or Harry Potter, as all characters involved belong to Jim Henson and J.K. Rowling, respectively.

Forget About the Baby

_Chapter 15: To Forget_

More than anything else in the world, Sarah wanted to forget.

She could not block the images from her mind. Every time she saw red, every time she heard a sudden noise, it came back to her. She could not erase the blood-stained wall from her mind, declaring that the "Chamber" had been opened.

She was unable to shrug off the incident as some kind of school prank, instead working within her knowledge of the Wizarding world and the staff of Hogwarts in order to discover what she could.

And then, there was the attack.

And as she leaned over a bed in the hospital wing, brushing a piece of hair out of Colin Creevey's face, she could not help but feel absolutely terrified of what would happen next.

He was barely alive, breathing softly, looking as though he was in a coma. Frozen in that silly position, taking a picture. He was always taking pictures, scurrying through the hallway like a nervous wild animal. Now, his camera was destroyed and he was here, under her care. Sarah was doing what she could- brewing extra medicinal potions, helping Minerva counsel the students- but she felt as though what she could do wasn't nearly enough.

Secretly, she wished that she had progressed even farther in her occlumency lessons with Professor Snape so that she was in some kind of position to help, so that she could feel as though she was doing _something_. It seemed too much to watch her surrogate family suffer like this. They had welcomed her into their lives with reckless abandon, working her into their plans and showing her a life she had never dreamed of. And instead of being able to help them, she was forced to watch as their entire world fell down.

Even more frustrating than being lost in the aforementioned thoughts was the constant presence of Professor Lockhart, who had taken it upon himself (his own "solemn" duty) to assist Sarah in whatever ways he felt possible, whether it was dispensing false medical advice or rewarding her with anecdotes of his dangerous travels. Sarah declared that she didn't need his assistance, refusing him as often as she could, but she decided that harassing her kept him from harassing Madam Pomfery, who had enough work on her own plate to deal with.

So, it was with much hesitance and trepidation that she decided to embrace the constant thorn in her side that was Professor Gilderoy Lockhart. However, anyone would need a break from such epic and fantastic "true" stories, and it was with equal parts hesitance (mixed with cunning) that she had snuck out of the medical wing that afternoon, running around the castle with reckless abandon and delighting in the freedom that she had obtained for herself.

She ran her fingers across the bricks against the wall, delighting in their antique yet familiar feel. Sometimes, she felt as though the building itself was tied to her- as though she was a part of the castle. The love and familiarity she was missing in her heart, Sarah supposed, all seemed to be summed up in Hogwarts.

She supposed that was why it was so startling, watching the walls bleed against their stone counterparts. She felt as though she had been stabbed in the heart.

Leaning against a wall to catch her breath, she sighed delightedly. It was afternoons like this she missed the most, with the severity of the situation and evil creeping up behind her. She figured she would pay the Headmaster a visit, skipping down the familiar hallways and corridors and embracing her newfound innocence and independence.

And as soon as she rounded a right turn, passing two classrooms, she halted abruptly as the man who haunted all of her dreams (and most of her memories) appeared, tangible and real, right in her line of vision.

He was standing outside the Headmaster's office, yelling about something or other in his clipped, haughty, aristocratic tones. Sarah couldn't even focus on what he was saying- in fact, she couldn't focus on much of anything. She willed her feet to move against their will as they stood planted, completely rooted to the ground.

Her mind melted, her thoughts turning to mush. She felt as though her knees were about to give out. Quickly, she regained some stamina and fled behind a turn, leaning against the wall behind her with all of her weight and attempting to catch her breath.

He was here. The King of the Goblins was here, where she lived, in her school. She slept here, all of her friends were here, she could have sworn she'd seen a vision of him in an owl form during the Halloween feast, and now _he_ was here.

Truthfully, the logical part of her mind argued, he had every reason to be here, as Toby was here. She fought against the memories that suddenly flooded her mind- of Toby in his arms, of holding Toby up in the air, over the crib, of speaking the words that removed him from her life forever. It made sense for him to be here, though she reasoned that she had absolutely no idea what his relationship with Toby was. She sensed it was something particularly malicious.

Before she'd attended Hogwarts, she had always figured that Toby had been turned into a Goblin. Some little ugly thing with wrinkled skin that made gross noises. So, she reasoned with herself, her judgment shouldn't exactly be trusted.

But Sarah's ability to process rational thoughts was, at this point, a little stuck. She was so caught up in the moment that she almost didn't notice that the fear was mixed with something else that hadn't been there when she was sixteen- anticipation and sexual attraction, the realization of which was almost more terrifying than the fear itself.

She ran her hands through her hair nervously, attempting to banish the images of his flashing eyes and strong stature from her mind. The familiar sound of his clicking boots, the way he smelled, his shadow, flickering on the floor in front of her.

And he was close and she fought the urge to breathe, willing herself not to give her presence away. Just to observe, just to be a part of this moment. With him.

* * *

There were a few things that Jareth, King of the Goblins, was not accustomed to. Having his requests denied was one of those things.

He grumbled in irritation at the Headmaster in front of him, unhappy that he was forced to, once again, deliberately meddle in the affairs of mortals. He had not done so for almost twelve years and took pride in the fact that he hadn't.

After all, the pain and memories from last time seemed to linger in his veins, seeping through and becoming evident whenever he recollected. He could not claim that he did not remember, because he did- rather vividly, in fact. Because when one had been alive for as long as he had, Jareth supposed, time loses all intimacy and meaning.

Because time was easy to manipulate, it had no purpose for him. He could slow it down, speed it up, and skip entire hours. Everything was completely at his whims, except for the woman he would have turned the world upside down for.

Jareth had been in an argument with the Headmaster of his adopted son's school, Hogwart, about the rather troublesome "attack" he'd been hearing of. The goblins who had been assigned to follow Toby's every move did not seem pleased with his current level of safety. Jareth intended to correct that.

"Look, I understand that you seem to have strong wards here at Hoggywart-"

"Hogwarts," the Headmaster interrupted, that persistent twinkle entertained in his eyes. Jareth ignored the unwelcome interruption and continued.

"But the point is, my son is the heir to an entire immortal kingdom. His importance, I would presume, has been explained to you?"

"We consider all of our students equally important here, Mr. King, as was explained to you when you accepted the invitation for his residence here. While you explained the circumstances and necessary precautions, we have done everything in our power to protect him," Headmaster Dumbledore explained patiently and quietly, contrasting sharply with Jareth's own harsh, impatient tones.

While this seemed to be an adequate, calm response, it only served to infuriate Jareth even more.

"My son is more important than _five-hundred_ of your students, Headmaster Dumbledore. When I agreed to send him to your school, Hogwash-"

"Hogwarts."

"I was assured of his safety and well-being. I do not want my son sent home in a casket over the summer holiday," Jareth snarled, his shoulders arching up. "I would like him returned to me, in one piece. Until he comes into at least partial control of his Fae powers at fourteen, I do not want to hold you accountable for his early, inopportune death! Do I make myself clear?"

The Headmaster nodded in response, looking rather pleased in response to Jareth's tirade. Jareth himself was slightly unsettled by the lack of intimidation in the older man, puffing himself up slightly and standing taller than he had been before.

"Good. I'll return in a few weeks, with higher expectations for this establishment."

"As always, I enjoy your visits, Mr. King," Dumbledore replied cheerfully, opening up the desk drawer in front of him. "Would you like a peppermint?"

Jareth snorted in response, his eyes darkening as he turned around abruptly, heading towards the spiral staircase. The nerve of that man! How dare he not be completely terrified in a _goblin king's _presence!

Secretly, Jareth was aware of Dumbledore's dealing with certain dark wizards (and almost intimidated by descriptions of said events). He would never admit it, but the power seeping out of the old man made him nervous.

And this knowledge made him even more nervous- that some "heir" to a hidden magical snake thing could bypass the wards that Dumbledore himself constructed seemed rather remarkable. Then again, Jareth supposed, mortal magic paled in comparison to immortal magic. Everything would be alright.

He sensed the first signs of resurgence before they had even occurred. He had traveled to the school at an alarming rate, determined to warn Toby of the danger and assist him. Truthfully, Jareth had not realized how much he really cared for his adopted son until that point in time.

And as he flapped his wings against the tall, glass windows, he saw her there, sitting, laughing.

The girl had haunted his dreams and removed him of his own free-will. She had ensnared him, wholeheartedly, until he was forced to remember her for years afterwards. Everything about her- the smell of her hair, the way her shoulders trembled as she contemplated her decision. Everything she was throwing away in exchange for what he had given her.

And what he had given her was not much- her dreams, an experience, an opportunity. He twisted fate to make his purpose known, twisted time in his hands to give her the adventure she had always dreamed of.

But instead, she refused to realize the opportunities that had made themselves known. Her magic, her situation, and where he had twisted time to meet his own ends. He had sent her to Britain to live with her mother, thinking she would still want to be an actress. Instead, he found her on the edge of death, completely heartbroken and confused. Jareth could not understand the way these mortals valued their possessions, how they wished for something to be removed and then pined for it for eternity.

He listened to the sound of his shoes tapping against the bricks, a familiar sound, one that he found comforting. His own presence, something that he could find solace in. All he needed was himself, and Tobias- everyone else seemed inconsequential.

And as for the girl, well, his good opinion, once lost, was lost forever.

He had offered her everything she desired, thinking she would fall into his arms. But if she had chosen the Labyrinth… he still wondered to himself, sometimes, how things would have resulted. Whether she would have chosen him and declared herself a worthy adversary. Drawing on her own power instead of what he had given her.

He felt a strong tug on his heart to the left. Disregarding it, he turned right.

And he did not see the girl who slumped down against the wall at his quick departure, sighing in resignation, defeat, anxiety and, more than anything, disappointment.

* * *

Notes:

I'm taking a bit of creative license here and determining that it takes thirteen years for a human to change into Fae or part-fae. Although he'll take on certain characteristics which will be explained in later chapters. Also, I thought you all would enjoy the "Hogwart/Hogwarts/Hoggywart" dilemma- though it's a bad pun, I just couldn't let this one go.

I know you've all been dying for a JxS interaction, and I'm sorry it's taking so long! But believe me, once it gets started, you'll all love how it turns out. Promise. This story is dreadfully long, too- we've only made it about a third of the way through.

As always, I love your reviews and your feedback. Thanks to everyone who has been touched by the story so far.


	17. Chapter 16: Developing

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Labyrinth or Harry Potter, as all characters involved belong to Jim Henson and J.K. Rowling, respectively.

Forget About the Baby

_Chapter 16: Developing_

The first day or so, Severus wasn't worried. He'd figured she was just thinking over a romantic interlude with some fellow or another, as those younger women tended to do. As he had never been a fan of the silly exploits of younger women, he had no qualms about his lack of comprehension in the field. Rather, he relished it. There were some things that men were not meant to understand, and this was one of them.

After around a week, he started to worry. He'd never seen her with some silly boy, at least in the romantic sense, though he wouldn't doubt the possibility- ever since the Halloween feast, he'd fought the urge to run his fingers through her elegant hair, pulling it up and leaning in towards the nape of her neck, pressing a kiss against her hairline…

No, none of that. Absolutely not.

But when she had stopped focusing on her work, he knew there was something wrong. One of the things he took pride in sharing with his younger counterpart was their meticulous attention to detail.

This was as out of character for her as it was for him to be seen, oh, lusting after some girl who was young enough to be his daughter. It was just silly.

Everything was topsy-turvy and mixed up and he couldn't stand it.

She was leaning over the potion she was working on, probably some Pepper-Up something or other for the hospital wing, and there were plenty of things wrong. She didn't have her hair tied back, meaning that it draped into her face rather tantalizingly, framing her delicate cheekbones and large eyes.

Oh, this was impossible. He couldn't get a damn thing done anymore.

He leaned in, attempting to catch her eye, when he noticed that her cheeks had taken on a slight blush. Was she ill? Why hadn't she brought it to his attention? Did she just need to rest or could he check her into the infirmary? What if she had been poisoned?

He pushed the silliest of the thoughts to the deepest, darkest recesses of his mind, begging his subconscious to silence them. He didn't need this, not with another attack scheduled near the forefront of the Dark Lord's plans. There were more important things to worry about than the state of his assistant's milky skin and slender, graceful neck. Plenty of other things.

And it was when he leaned in to touch her temples, trying to sense a fever, that he made the mistake of inquiring too closely to her state of well being and ended up finding out what, exactly, was keeping her so distracted.

* * *

_Oh how wonderful, _he thought drily, _exactly how I wanted to spend my afternoon- rummaging through some silly woman's past romances thanks to accidentally occlumency.  
_

He knew his surroundings had changed to something of the unfamiliar, a memory, because there weren't many Victorian houses in the area that he was well acquainted with. Much less any with screaming, temperamental babies in ugly candy-cane striped onesies.

The room was dark, so he felt it safe to presume that it was night, wherever he was. Things were a little bit fuzzy around the edges, as memories tended to deteriorate a bit due to time- it was impossible for someone to remember every exact detail for an event that had happened in their past.

Severus couldn't exactly gauge the time period, but he sensed it was at least a decade or so.

Judging a presence near his feet, he saw a small, tattered stuffed bear being encompassed by the billowing robes that had become his trademark. He stepped back a few feet in obvious disgust (really, the thing probably had mange) - obviously just in time, as a simpering teenage girl came running in the room, shrieking about some "Lancelot" something or other.

And as this memory did not seem to resemble anything near King Arthur's Court or the Knights of the Round Table, Severus was forced to presume that the teenage girl in question was completely delusional. Well, far more delusional than teenage girls tended to be.

She picked up the stuffed bear, brandishing it at the baby who just seemed to want to cry harder. When she turned around, he got a clear look at her face and remembered whose memories he was looking at. Unfortunately.

"It's not fair!" she proclaimed, no, shrieked, twirling around a little bit for dramatic effect. Severus wondered whether she realized that she had a captive audience. Well, more of an audience than just a sniveling baby.

After complaining a little more, teenage Sarah decided to tell some silly story about Goblins and babies and wishes and put on a stupid knit hat. If this was what had been plaguing her mind for the past week, Severus decided, then her entire life must have been much more idiotic than he had previously thought.

Sarah screamed some more and then twirled around in a huff after waving the baby around over her head (quite dangerously, Severus thought) and then placing him in his crib. She pulled some switch and the lights went out. Obviously some form of Muggle trickery.

But then things started to get strange. There were shapes where there had been none before, and shadows took on a deeper meaning than he had previously imagined. The room took on a smell of soft rain, the curtains flailing in the night air as the storm came down harder outside.

And then an owl flew through the window, transfiguring (rather menacingly) into the form of a tall, imposing man… in tights.

Severus couldn't really get past the tights. He was glad that he wasn't a responsive participant in this scene, as he surely would have collapsed laughing and/or died of fright. Who ran around in tights anymore? Obviously, he realized, actors! She was an actress and she was rehearsing some kind of a scene for a school play. That had to be it.

Sarah stopped complaining and looked terrified. It was all rather realistic, and Severus was impressed.

"You're him, aren't you…? You're the Goblin King," she asked the flamboyant man in front of her.

He cocked an eyebrow in response, crossing his arms in a powerful pose. Severus still couldn't distract himself from the hilariously apparent bulge in the other man's pants, however, letting out a snort of disapproval. He swore he could sense the other man's eyes turn to him in amusement, as if responding _Well, this isn't your memory, you know. And, besides, I think she's enjoying the tights._

Surveying her carefully, Severus could deduce that she _was_ enjoying the tights. Damn. He would never understand women.

Both of them then proceeded to have a sexually charged argument about some baby or other, quite possibly the baby in that horrid outfit who seemed to no longer be rolling about in his crib. He couldn't quite understand why the baby was such a big deal. If he was Sarah, he'd be glad that the stupid baby was gone, though that could partially be because of his aversion to anything that smelled awful and had no redeeming value whatsoever.

Such as first year Gryffindors.

And then he noticed the man twist his hands around, balancing crystals in his palm. While it was a memory, he could almost see the magical waves floating off the glass, bouncing within their spheres like twinkling lights in the sky.

He felt the warm, tingling rush and realized something terrifying, that the feeling was akin to only one other- the feeling of Fawkes' red plumage under his fingertips as the phoenix cooed softly, balancing gracefully on its perch in the Headmaster's office.

And the only thing that felt like that was, unfortunately, immortal magic. And due to the warmth in his body at this moment, this seemed to be a lot stronger than a certain phoenix he was acquainted with.

This was not good.

Immortals only really took interest in their mortal counterparts for a few reasons. He'd heard stories about certain Fae romancing mortal women before to take them to their beds, but he knew for a fact that the Fae mated for life, usually to their own kind.

Also, under certain circumstances, the Fae could come to proclaim a debt or take away something as a result of a debt, but Severus didn't think Sarah could be in much debt, unless one of her parents had done something rather stupid.

But he could recognize the appreciation in the immortal's eyes as he regarded Sarah, failing to disguise the attraction and perversion hidden beneath. Or in his rapidly expanding bulge.

Really, Severus just couldn't get over that erection. It was too funny. He was trying to be serious, but he'd look down to try to concentrate and see it again and laugh some more. So, this Goblin King had an interest in Sarah? This was a new development. But why was she thinking about this now, and why did she seem to be so fixated on it?

And then the man laughed and tossed a crystal into her outstretched hands, twirling his robe around and disappearing into the night as cleverly as he had arrived.

And Sarah collapsed onto the floor and cried, her body shaking with the heaving sobs he had recognized before in the previous memory he had seen, the one he was still horrified by. It was rare to see such sorrow in a person's being, to watch them be encompassed by grief and loss.

It was what happened, he realized, when you lost someone you loved.

* * *

Professor Severus Snape slammed open the magical barrier to the Headmaster's office, striding in as though he had an appointment which, of course, he didn't.

"You know, if you had asked," Albus Dumbledore said, "I would have just let you in. I don't understand why my visitors have been so dramatic lately."

Severus fought the urge to hex the older man, instead focusing on what had been plaguing his mind.

"Sarah…" he stammered, clenching his fists in irritation.

"Ah, yes, my boy. Isn't she developing rather nicely?"

His mind was immediately flooded with images of Sarah in compromising positions and, judging by the perceptive ever-present twinkle in Dumbledore's eye, he knew exactly what Severus was thinking about.

"You are a dirty old man," he replied matter of factly.

"Why, what do you mean? I meant her magic lessons and with her occlumency- all of it seems to be developing rather nicely."

Oh, well.

"What did you _think_ I was talking about?" Dumbledore asked, letting out a light chuckle at the end of his sentence.

"Never mind any of that. Did you know that she's-"

"Fae marked? Why yes, I did," the Headmaster replied sadly, crossing his hands in his lap. "He will never stop pursuing her, now. It is too late. Also, due to some extraneous circumstances, they will soon be 'thrown together,' so to speak."

Severus could, quite literally, feel his jaw drop to the floor. Fae marking was serious business- once the Fae had chosen their potential mate, they could have no other for the rest of their lives. Immortality seemed to lend itself well to such ironic ultimatums.

Usually, however, the Fae tended to mark their own kind or, occasionally, those whom they were in a romantic relationship with. It seemed rather silly to mark a teenage girl, because really, they couldn't contemplate much of anything.

"At this point, all she could really do is just turn him down flat by speaking the 'magic words'- pardon my pun," he spoke cheerfully, "I just had to do it- to remove him from her life entirely. At this point, though, fate will choose their paths."

"Magic words?" Severus inquired.

"It's quite simple, really. Just the phrase 'You have no power over me' declares her independence and breaks the bond between them. Isn't it amazing how ancient magic can be stored in words and phrases?"

Sensing that the older man was going to start in on another one of his rants, Severus quickly turned around, waving his hand and claiming that he had some important work to do.

Was she aware of any of this? That she had been forced together by some man, against her will, that she had no choice over her own destiny?

He would make it his business to see that she could choose her own life.

He would get her to say the right words and free herself from the unwanted immortal bonds of attraction which, had he inquired with the woman in question, he may have discovered weren't so unwanted after all.

This Goblin King, whomever he was, would have no power over Sarah Williams.

* * *

A/N: I figured that after hitting 75 reviews, 25 favorites and 50 author alerts, you all needed some kind of reward. It seemed too serendipitous to ignore. So I quickly wrote this chapter, which was a lot of fun to write due to the humorous tone. I enjoyed it, as you can tell- commenting on the sheer ridiculousness and sexiness of Bowie's bulge seemed appropriate for Severus. He always seems to see the best in these sorts of situations.

In any case, thank you all so much for your kind PMs and reviews. I've actually teared up at some of the feedback; it's honestly been really meaningful. I'm one of those people who just can't stand HpXLabyrinth crossovers, most of the time, and hearing that I've reinvigorated the field is refreshing (and a little intimidating)! I'm glad that my story has inspired so many of you so far- to think, to imagine, and to be hooked on a story. It's a great feeling- one that I'm fully aware of, while writing this. These characters have almost seemed to take on lives and opinions of their own!

There is a sequel planned that will be more about characters' lives after Hogwarts, something that I've always imagined, focusing on Toby. Also, I've got a prologue mapped out that I'm not so sure I'll use. Part of the ideas I was throwing around was sticking Sarah back in the same timeline if she HAD chosen Toby- her adventures at Hogwarts, her friendships and what she did. But part of me thinks I should just leave this on it's own.

If you have any advice or comments, as always, send them my way in a PM or review. I love hearing from you all, and I always do my best to respond!


	18. Chapter 17: Teenage Drama

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Labyrinth or Harry Potter, as all characters involved belong to Jim Henson and J.K. Rowling, respectively.

Forget About the Baby

_Chapter 17: Teenage Drama_

Sarah hadn't seen Severus in longer than she was comfortable with, and she was starting to worry. She knew exactly where he was- the restricted section of the library, to be exact- but she had absolutely no clue why he was in there. Probably researching some potion or other.

She never saw him at meals, as the professor had never considered eating to be anything but a necessity and tended to grab food out of the kitchens when busy. He was, obviously, rather busy.

But she could not shake the anxious thought that maybe, just maybe, he was ignoring her. It's wasn't as though he had any reason to ignore her.

Except for, oh, fully delving into her memories and discovering what had plagued her for the past twelve years or so. The mistake that had determined her life. The choice she had made that ruined everything she had worked so hard to achieve.

The action weighed heavy on her mind, forcing her future choices and decisions under it. She could never escape her biggest mistake.

Looking down again at the food in front of her, Sarah Williams pressed her fork against her food quietly before placing it on the plate and folding her hands into her lap, losing herself in her memories. She remembered when she didn't eat for weeks on the drugs, how she lost her appetite completely, instead feeding on an insatiable hunger for despair. Everything was gone.

Back then, she could not find interest in anything that she used to. She isolated herself from her peers, not because she wanted to, but because she felt it was necessary- how could they even understand what she was going through? Sure, people made mistakes, but not like this. Hers was the absolute worst, no matter what anyone told her.

Scanning the Great Hall in boredom, her eyes caught on a trembling slip of a girl no more than eleven as she picked at her food before pushing it away, folding her hands in her lap in the same fashion as Sarah, trying her hardest to keep control over the situation.

She was pale, with chocolate brown eyes framed with thick lashes. Her hair was too carrot-orange to be considered attractive; Sarah hoped it would develop into a nice auburn as the girl grew older. But the hair was a gleaming beacon, a sign- she was a Weasley.

More importantly, she wasn't in very good shape, from what Sarah could tell.

While the other members of her house gossiped heartily about Quidditch matches, classes and students in other houses, she sat two full chairs down from anyone else, scribbling in a book of some kind- a diary or journal?

Well, at least she was writing down her feelings, Sarah thought. That was a start to recovery.

But it was the strangest thing, it seemed as though the youngest Weasley girl refused to let anyone else look at her journal. Sure, Sarah had heard of teenage girls being protective of such things before, but most witches Ginny's age would just place a protective charm on the book.

An elbow shot out from some direction, knocking over a goblet of pumpkin juice. Ginny Weasley tensed up, becoming an even paler shade of white, if at all possible. She grabbed for her book impulsively, protectively, looking startled to realize that it was slightly damp from the juice. As her peers refused to help her and sniggered in malicious laughter, she tried to wipe off the pages, her eyes tearing up with worry and embarrassment.

Before Sarah could try to quell the situation or quiet the other students down, Ginny stood up abruptly, her face resembling some kind of startled wild animal. She grabbed her journal and ran out of the hall quickly.

Sarah made a mental note to check up on the girl or talk to Professor McGonagall about the situation. Yes, that would be better.

She had more important things to worry about than the he-said-she-said of teenage romantic drama.

* * *

"Father, I've got something to tell you," Tobias King stated firmly, closing his suitcase and sitting back down on his bed. Jareth wasn't sure whether his adopted son was going through a period of what those mortals called "teenage rebellion" at the moment, but he was positive that this wasn't a good time. His son's idiotic school, Hoggy-wart, had undergone another set of attacks and Jareth wanted the sole living heir to the Goblin throne out of it. Right now.

Jareth sighed, sitting down next to Tobias on the bed. "What is it?"

"I'm not leaving. I refuse."

Jareth, who had seldom been told "no" in his entire life, was, seemingly, at a bit of a loss.

"I'm sorry, come again?" he asked, fixing the boy next to him with a firm stare.

"I _said_, I'm not going home," Toby repeated, crossing his arms against his chest.

"You know, I was looking for a different answer that time," Jareth replied smugly, opening his son's suitcase back up and checking the contents. "In any case, you're still leaving-"

"Have you ever thought about my feelings in this?" Toby interrupted, standing up and slamming the suitcase closed, narrowly missing his father's hand. Jareth pulled his hand back abruptly (mostly in shock).

"You're all of twelve years old," Jareth stated in disgust, re-opening the suitcase and pulling it towards him. "I refuse to acknowledge your opinion."

"Father, please!" he yelled back, "You don't understand!"

"Oh? What don't I understand? How about you tell me what I don't understand- leaving you alone in a dangerous place, my only son and heir? How am I supposed to feel about that?" Jareth responded icily, throwing his son's books into the suitcase and shutting the lid angrily.

"I feel safe here!"

"You can feel safe at home, where you actually _are_ safe!"

Toby sat down again next to his adoptive father, breathing slowly in an effort to calm himself down. "I'm sorry, I just wish I didn't have to leave. There are lots of powerful wizards here- Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor Snape, Professor Lockhart; even Miss Williams is fairly powerful..."

Trailing off, Toby noticed something. The entire room seemed to grow dark and just a little bit colder-items in the room started to glow with some energy that hadn't been there before. All of the lanterns and candles were abruptly blown out by some unknown force or other. Toby quickly realized that his adoptive father looked like he was suffering from the worst headache in the entire world.

He leaned forward, placing a hand on Jareth's shoulder. "Father, are you alright...?" Immediately, Jareth's head snapped up, and the room resumed looking as it always had until that prior moment.

"Perfectly fine, Tobias," he responded cordially, without any hint of emotion. "I suggest you pack your things quickly, as there are things to attend to."

Toby knew his father's 'this means absolute business' voice when he heard it, and decided it wasn't worth arguing anymore. Once things cleared up he'd be back at school as soon as possible. He heard his father get up, brush some dust off his expensive pants (or tights? Toby wasn't sure whether to ever call them 'pants' or 'tights' since the latter didn't sound nearly manly enough) and walk towards the door, boots clicking with every step.

"Oh, and Tobias?" his father called, "Do me a favor, will you?"

"Anything, if it's reasonable," Toby replied, smirking despite his earlier dismay.

"Preferably, I do not wish for you to mention anything about Miss Williams to me ever again."

And with that he was gone, cape swooshing behind him rather forebodingly.

* * *

"Now, you two scoundrels," Sarah hissed between her teeth menacingly, "If I ever catch you trying to get in here again it will be the death of you. Understood?"

Harry Potter and Ron Weasley sighed in perfect unison and scowled back at her, slumping their shoulders and walking away from the Restricted Section towards the exit of the library.

Sarah sighed, placing a hand over her face to try to stifle the laughter that she was sure would come any minute. Whatever those students were planning, she was sure it wasn't worth the mountain of hexes and curses that the Restricted Section would set on you if you stole a book, not to mention the numerous alarms. Really, she was just doing it for their own good.

She picked the stack of musty old books up in her hands that she had been indexing, grabbing a seat near a small table near a window before resuming her search for missing pages. Before she could become comfortable in her work, however, she heard sniffled, muffled sobs coming a few shelves down. Sarah set down the books again quietly, sneaking over towards whatever student had her heart broken that fateful afternoon.

What she wasn't expecting, however, was Ginerva Weasley, rummaging through her bookbag and looking desperately for something that wasn't there.

Sarah cleared her throat, trying to decide whether asking would be rude or just asking the girl to leave when Ginny noticed her arrival, eyes widening and lunging towards the assistant librarian in question. Ginny's eyes were wide and swollen red along the edges, looking closely like some drug-addict who'd lost their stash, Sarah remarked to herself.

"Please, I can't... you have to help me... my diary..." she sobbed, convulsing with every new pitiful crying-noise uttered.

Wrapping her arms around the small first-year girl comfortingly, Sarah held her tightly, brushing her messy hair back from her forehead and stroking her back until she could calm down.

"It's alright, sweetheart" Sarah told her, running her hands through the girl's carrot-red hair, "I'll help you find it. Are you that worried about someone reading what's in there? Because I can help you put a charm or two on it, if you are-"

"Someone else... reading it?" Ginny interrupted, seeming to realize the possibility after coping with the, realistic yet inevitable, loss of the book. "No! They can't read it... they won't, he's only mine..." she spoke to herself soothingly, before realizing that she was still in front of an authority figure.

Freezing like a scared rabbit, Ginny quickly collected her things and ran off despite Sarah's numerous protests and advice to calm down, eat some chocolate and visit the hospital wing. Sarah sighed, sat back down in her chair and placed the books on her lap, making a mental note to seek out Miss Weasley later.

She hoped that the girl wouldn't worry too much- after all, it wasn't that big of a deal.


End file.
